The Human War
by Generatedname
Summary: The Citadel Council is a peaceful conglomerate of races, blissfully unaware of the horrors that lurk beyond their space. Humanity, meanwhile, is a race that has fought against these alien horrors ever since they made contact. What will happen when the two societies meet? Will peace follow war? Or is the Citadel Council doomed to fall to humanity? Rewrite of When Civilizations Meet.
1. Prologue

**A/N: It's a little rough around the edges, but I wanted to get back into the feel of writing sci-fi, and what better way to do that than paint the setting?**

 **Also, you might notice expressions like 0.2c showing up repeatedly in the fic. The 'c' stands for Light Speed, so 0.2c stands for 20% lightspeed, while 0.997c stands for 99.7% light speed, 10c stands for ten times light speed, etc. etc.**

 **For reference, Council dreadnoughts' main guns fire tungsten slugs at approximately 0.013c.**

 **When it comes to the vast distances involved in space combat, you will find that I resort to using light-units very often, so to give you a sense of scale, the distance from Earth to the Moon is approximately 1.3 light seconds, while the distance from the Earth to the Sun is approximately 8.3 light minutes. This means that a ship traveling at 0.05c will move traverse the distance between the Earth and Moon in approximately 26 seconds.**

* * *

" _Our enemy is cruel, sly, fearless, and completely and utterly assured of their own supremacy. They were out conquering other races back when dinosaurs still ruled the Earth. They have at their disposal ships capable of reducing our mother Earth to a cinder in a matter of hours. Their leaders have hundreds of thousands of years' worth of experience to draw upon. And yet, in spite of all that, we are winning! If we can say that about our enemy, and yet still beat them, what does that say about us?_ _."_ \- Quote attributed to Simon Hutch, Head of XCOM Department of Propaganda.

 **Prologue: State of the Union**

 **August 12th, 2155**

 **Interstellar Void**

"Captain, I'm picking something up. It's a gravity wake." The words of his XO caused Junior Rear Admiral James Grant to rise from his seat in the bridge of the heavy cruiser _XCV-Angaur._ Steaming at the head of a small patrol fleet of twenty frigates and three light cruisers, the eight hundred meter long vessel was currently in the middle of a routine FTL patrol, its sole duty being to detect any incoming enemy probes or pushes towards the Perseus line, a line whose entire purpose was to keep Earth and her colonies safe from attacks coming in from the rimward direction. An entire Grand Fleet, the Third Grand Fleet to be exact, patrolled its length, its fifteen component Battle Fleets based in strategic systems along the front.

"Tonnage?" James asked, walking up to the officer.

"Approximately... One and a half million tons, give or take a few hundred thousand. Shouldn't be anything too big." The officer reported.

"Heading?"

"303 degrees, local relativity. They're on an intercept course with our local Battle Fleet headquarters."

"Send a message to B-47 Headquarters. Tell them they've got a potential probing attack inbound, the ETA, and that we're moving to head them off. Then take us out of FTL, plot an intercept course, and jump again."

"Aye-Aye sir." The officer was off, relaying his orders to the rest of the crew, and by extension, the rest of the fleet.

Within a minute, the twenty-one ships of Battle Fleet 47, Patrol Fleet 31 exited FTL, rotated, and as one, jumped away once more.

Several long hours passed, before the XO spoke up again.

"Our entry shockwaves have just reached them. If their commander has even half a brain, they'll know we know where they are."

"Maintain course. Spool up the interdiction gear once we are within five hundred light years. Notify me of any further developments."

These orders given, the fleet continued on its intercept course, traversing twenty light years every second. Several minutes passed, then the XO spoke up again, his voice uncertain.

"They've dropped out of FTL, and we've picked up their shockwave. Mass readings are significantly off though, we're reading a combined mass in excess of twenty million tons. No ripple effect either."

"Hmm... Either they're sending a twenty million ton supership at us, or they're using GravMask technology. Even with their technology, twenty million tons of ships cannot exit FTL at exactly the same moment." James replied.

"What are our orders?"

"Send a message to headquarters, tell them that the enemy fleet may potentially be more than a probing attack, and that our investigation will continue as planned. Once that is done, exit FTL, adjust course, then jump again. Make sure our FTL capacitors are charged for at least one instant jump once we make contact, just in case they're actually using some sort of new tech to mask their FTL grav-wakes."

"Aye-aye sir."

The fleet once again exited FTL, adjusted course, then jumped once more. This time, no wake was detected.

"They're not jumping again. They want us to come to them." James mused at that.

"You think it's a trap?" The XO asked.

"They might as well be holding up neon signs saying 'TRAP HERE'. Of course, our current objective hasn't changed. We jump in, find out what exactly is going on, and then jump out to alert command. If it turns out that we were right at first, and this is nothing but a probing attack, we engage them. What is our ETA?"

"Three minutes, sir."

"Sound general quarters and start charging weapons. I want to fire at least one volley before jumping out. Will we be able to do so?"

"Our FTL capacitors have enough in them for two jumps. We can do that and more."

"Excellent. Send a message to headquarters. We are engaging the enemy."

The next three minutes were tense, the only sounds being that of alarms and tramping feet as men hurried to battle stations. The beeping of bridge consoles, the soft hum of the ship, all of that and more added to the symphony of the pre-battle calm.

The minutes ticked by all too quickly, and soon Battle Fleet 47's 31st Patrol Fleet exited FTL. Immediately, it became all too apparent that something was wrong.

"It's a full-blown battle fleet! Get us out of here!" James ordered over the screams of sensors, as the hundreds of enemy ships, ranging from frigate and corvette swarms to a massive Temple Ship, made their presence known.

"On it!" The orders were relayed across the tiny patrol fleet, and as one the fleet once again flickered, preparing to jump to FTL, but this time, instead of accelerating away, the ships shuddered as the gravitational shockwaves of failed FTL jumps rippled across their shields.

"They've got interdiction gear! We can't get a message through either, our comms are jammed!" The XO shouted from his post.

"Damn. Turn our fleet around and open fire. I won't go down without a fight." James said, resignation replacing any fear in his voice.

"Tell the men that it was an honor to serve with them." He said again moments later, as the _Angaur_ 's spinal fusion lance fired, its multiple plasma cannons adding to the patrol fleet's puny barrage. Compared to what the aliens were throwing at them, though, the mighty human barrage was a pittance. Twelve kilometers off the _Angaur_ 's port side, the frigate _XCS-Jennifer Kelley_ exploded as a fusion lance blast from the Temple Ship punched through its shields and armor, only to detonate within, causing the small vessel to simply vanish in a ball of short-lived nuclear fire, the ship's internal atmosphere burned away almost instantly several hundred megatons of nuclear death going off within its hull.

"It was an honor to serve under you." James smiled as his subordinate said this. The ship shuddered, alarms going off as the shields went down, while several plasma bolts slammed into the ablative armor. However, while that armor was perfectly capable of withstanding plasma bolts, the fusion lance shot from the Ethereal Battleship thirty-two thousand kilometers away was not so easily turned away. Lights flickered and died, their backups irregularly bursting to life, while metal groaned and alarms screamed as the entire forward half of the heavy cruiser simply vanished under the blow. Plasma bolts tore into the gutted ship. One such bolt punched through sixty meters of deckspace and tore open the bridge of the effectively-dead heavy cruiser. The bridge officers who were not killed by the bolt itself were sucked into space, the ship's atmosphere containment system already compromised.

Twenty minutes later, a second fusion lance blast, this one originating from an Ethereal Cruiser, slammed into the wreck. In a final burst of fire, the _XCS Angaur_ died, and its small patrol fleet died with it.

* * *

The headquarters of Battle Fleet 47 were located in a system nicknamed Serpens Ultima. It had once been part of the Viper Imperium, which in turn was a small client state of the Ethereal Collective, but as humanity had blazed a furious path out of the Sol system, the Imperium had rapidly fallen, the Viper fleets shattered in engagement after engagement with their human foes. In order to prevent rebellion from the warlike reptilian race, the Vipers had been armed with hand-me-down, obsolete technology, technology that failed to withstand the human blitz. Serpens Ultima had been the final holdout of the Viper race, a no-name Garden World with no significant life transformed into the site of a foreign species' last stand. Orbital bombardment had scarred the green world, and several long years of combat between the Vipers, their Ethereal overlords, and Humanity only deepened those scars. Now, Serpens Ultima was midway through a long nuclear winter, and the only remnants of its former owners were the mass-produced soldiers marching out from the Ethereal clone vats on a world somewhere in the cold depths of the galaxy.

Above this world floated the 47th Battle Fleet, its flag held aboard the _XCS-Warsaw,_ a mighty, two-kilometer long _Paris_ -class Heavy Carrier. Around the massive warship floated shoals of frigates, wolfpacks of cruisers, light and heavy, and several massive battleships, each with their own escorting vessels. In command of this force was Admiral Nikita Lebedev, a man who had seen his fair share of combat. Under his command, the 47th Battle Fleet had blunted a massed assault on the Perseus Line three years prior, a fleet action that saw him wounded whilst repelling a boarding action.

"Sir, PF-31 has not yet reported in. We've sent out PF-38 to investigate, and they detected the hostile wake, ETA: Two days, eighteen hours. No sign of PF-31 though." Natalia Sampson, Executive Officer of the _XCS-Warsaw_ , relayed the information to Admiral Lebedev. The aging slavic man, four silver stars emblazoned on his lapel, sighed at the news.

"Reclassify PF-31 as lost and alert the boys down on the ground. Then send out a message to the rest of B-47, and tell them to converge on Headquarters. If this was a mere probing attack, our patrol fleet would have annihilated them. I want as many ships in this system as possible, and if that means plugging gaps in our line with reserves for a while, so be it. In addition, I want a message sent to ComNavPer to alert them of the coming battle."

"Understood, sir."

The _Warsaw_ sent out its messages, and the fleet, already prepared for war, began to ready itself for the defense of the system. The planet itself was ringed with the debris of thousands of warships, Human and Ethereal alike, and in the years since the planet's fall, the ring had only gotten thicker. Within that ring lurked multiple orbital defense platforms, several of them clustered around a large asteroid. The asteroid had once occupied a much higher orbit, before the system's former owners, in a desperate attempt to cut their losses, attempted to slam the asteroid into the Human foothold on the planet. That plan had been brought to a halt.

The days passed quickly, an air of tension pervading the atmosphere as the hours ticked by. Then, approximately two hours before the enemy was scheduled to arrive, one of the buoys at the edge of the system picked up a gravitational shockwave, indicating a fleet exiting FTL, shortly followed by a second shockwave, this one indicating a fleet adjusting course before re-entering FTL. Deep-space buoys, placed in the middle of empty void by intrepid patrol fleets, picked up the subspace wake shortly afterward. The enemy's position and course were now known, although their destination was already common knowledge.

Approximately twenty seconds after scheduled arrival time, in-system buoys picked up strong shockwaves, showing that the enemy fleet had indeed arrived in-system, approaching by the predicted vector. Five minutes after their arrival in-system, three squadrons of destroyers shimmered into view around the massive Ethereal fleet. Thirty-five vessels strong, the force of destroyers let loose a single barrage before fading away again, taking evasive action as return fire streaked their way. However, the paltry force of destroyers could only harass and slow the massive fleet, which was now moving in tight formation, ensuring that no stragglers were left behind for the destroyers to pick off.

These hit-and-run attacks continued for nearly three hours. Seven destroyers were lost, while six small enemy vessels suffered the same fate. Many more ships were damaged, but ultimately, the delaying action failed to accomplish anything significant. Eventually, the attacks were called off, the destroyers retreating to the planetary debris field, where the rest of the fleet already hid, masked from enemy sensors by all the wreckage around them.

All was quiet as the Ethereal fleet sailed into orbit. Even if sound were able to traverse the vaccum of space, neither fleet would be making any sound. The engines of both fleets were cold, their crews tense and silent. Slowly but surely, the Ethereal fleet closed in on Serpens Ultima, unchallenged. Then, suddenly, three task forces of destroyers decloaked around the Ethereal fleet, while two large clouds of fighters emerged from the debris field, all charging towards the enemy force.

"Heads up boys, we've got bogeys incoming. Keep the bombers covered at all costs." The voice of Maroon Flight's leader sounded out in Eugene Flowers' ears. The flight was composed of six F-309 Hurricane IIG Vacuum fighters, each one the culmination of over a century of experience in vacuum combat. Cruising at a comfortable 0.05c, the flight was at the head of nearly six hundred similar fighters, serving as an escort for four hundred heavy bombers. Another similar force was approaching the Ethereal fleet from a different vector, while behind them hundreds more fighters served as a combat air patrol for the capital ships.

"Attention 221st Wing! This is EWACs, callsign Veiled Eye. We are picking up eighty-three hostile contacts changing course to engage you. Range is 15 light seconds and closing. Uploading data to your HUDs now." The relevant data was uploaded, and the enemy fighters, still nearly four and a half million kilometers away, lit up on Eugene's HUD.

"Maroon flight, we're the vanguard. Fire as soon as you have locks." The flight leader's voice sounded out two minutes later, mere moments before the dreaded tone of a hostile lock echoed through his cockpit. The Ethereal fighters had locks now, and if the bright red warning lights on his HUD were any indication, they had already launched missiles.

"Fox-5! Fox-5!" The brevity code for anti-missile missile launches was repeated throughout the fighter formation as the small, fast M-213 AMMs left their tubes, the revolving magazines rotating more into place moments later. Forty seconds passed, before bright flashes of light in the distance indicated the countermeasures' successful impact. Then, a second tone filled the cockpit, this one much more welcome.

"Maroon flight, hold fire until two light seconds." The flight leader's order kept his finger off the trigger. Back when he had first graduated from Luna Flight School, he would have fired as soon as he heard the tone, but long experience had taught him that missiles fired from that distance never reached their targets. Again and again the tone sounded out as he locked onto enemy after enemy.

"Incoming! Fox-5!" The warning lights had barely gone off before Eugene hammered the firing stud for all it was worth, firing off six AMMs, the warheads impacting seconds later. The explosions were still blooming when his flight screamed past them, entering combat range.

"Fox-2, Fox-2!" Once again, the message repeated itself throughout the fighter formation, but now it was the heavy, M-207 AFMs that were being fired, streaking towards their target. Unlike their Human opponents, the Ethereal fighters carried no anti-missile missiles, and while their heavier missiles had a longer range, they carried much fewer of them. However, they made up for this deficiency with numbers, but their mass-produced, barely shielded airframes were no match for the heavy warheads that screamed towards them. Two of the fighters Eugene had locked onto vanished in green-white bursts, while the other three took evasive action, deploying what countermeasures they had, and managing to evade the missile barrage. They were now so close that Eugene didn't need his HUD to tell him where they were, but at this distance the missiles he carried were of limited use, leaving him with one last option. His finger shifted from the missile firing stud to the trigger beneath it, and opened fire, the two heavy Disruptor guns firing away at their first target, propelling streams of exotic particles at relativistic speeds at the desperately swerving enemy craft.

Nearly a century and a half before, Ethereal fighters were large, bulky craft, heavily armored to the point of being able to withstand anything the Human militaries could throw at them. They had no need for maneuverability, and could move fast enough that even the cutting-edge Fifth-generation fighters of the time may as well have been stationary in comparison. The Sidewinder and Phoenix missiles thrown at them barely scratched their paint job, and the 20 millimeter cannons were even less effective, while the Alien plasma cannons made short work of even the advanced F-22s, F-35s, and other, barely produced prototypes that had risen against them back in the March of 2015. Now though, these old, First War alien fighters had another name: Target Practice. The newer Ethereal fighters were small, nimble, and lightly armored, able to run rings around their predecessors. However, no amount of maneuverability could save Eugene's target from a cannon lock, the two Disruptor guns swiveling on their gimballed mounts, keeping track of the target as they fired, their bright blue-white beams tearing through the fighter's weak shields, and into its airframe. The hostile fighter spun out of control, its damaged Elerium core causing its engines to misfire. Bits and pieces began to fly off, proving that its G-stabilizer had failed. At its current speed, that would mean the G-forces alone would have reduced the pilot to a thin paste, but even if it had been flown by something capable of withstanding the force, the Elerium core detonating moments later rendered that ability moot.

However, the now-dead fighter's wingman had not been idle, and Eugene immediately threw his fighter into an impressive series of evasive maneuvers to avoid two streams of plasma coming from right behind him.

"This is Maroon-4, I've got one on my six!" He called out over his squadron comms as he continued to evade enemy fire. One advantage that human Disruptor guns, a technology obtained from the short Micronoid war, had over Ethereal plasma guns was shot velocity. A Disruptor gun fired its particle streams at nearly 0.997c, meaning that, once cannon lock was obtained, it was nearly impossible to avoid them at close range. Meanwhile, the plasma guns on Ethereal fighters fired at a comparatively slow 0.15c, with the heavier ones on-board the capital ships firing up to three times as fast. Against the merely supersonic fighters of old, such a difference was irrelevant, but at the relativistic speeds of modern starfighter combat it made all the difference, as Eugene proved by deftly weaving through the alien barrage, his enhanced reflexes giving him the edge he needed to stay alive at speeds that would tax ordinary human reaction times well past their limits. Of course, the genetic modifications had their consequences. While the Meld was present in his body, he was effectively sterile and unable to comply with the government breeding mandates. This meant that the modifications would be removed once he left the military, which allowed him to produce Earth's most valuable export at the cost of gradually failing eyesight and fine motor control. By the time he reached age 50, he would be blind and unable to write, but none of that mattered in his current situation.

"Maroon-4, this is Maroon-2. Quid Pro!" The voice of one of his flight-mates rang out in his ears, causing him to look around for its source. He spotted his fellow pilot a scant few thousand kilometers away off his right wing, the bright dot of an Ethereal engine right behind him. Not pausing in his evasive maneuvers, he turned to his fellow pilot, quickly obtaining a target lock. Less than a second later he screamed past his ally, passing within several meters of the other fighter, and squeezed off a burst of disruptor fire, watching as the other pilot did the same, both enemy fighter craft exploding in flashes of green within moments of each other.

"That gun cam's going straight to flight school!" Maroon-2's elated laughter rang through Eugene's headset.

"You got that one right. Head's up, we've got two more making a break for the bombers." Eugene replied, already spinning his fighter around to face the two new contacts, reversing direction in under a second thanks to his craft's grav-gyros and omni-directional maneuvering thrusters.

"I have lock, Fox-2." Maroon-2 was quick on the draw, and four more missiles streamed from his fighter's tubes, streaking towards the enemy fighter at approximately 0.12c. Two slammed into one fighter, reducing it to a cloud of high-speed debris, while the other two went wild, the enemy's countermeasures succeeding in their intended role. However, two more missiles from Eugene got through, erasing that particular fighter from existence.

"Veiled Eye to Maroon Flight, you've got a flight of hostile bombers incoming. Sending data now, engage at will." With those words, twelve new contacts appeared on Eugene's HUD, these ones larger and slower than the fighters they had just eliminated. Moments later, the familiar tone of a target lock sounded off. Once more, the chorus of Fox-5s sounded off over flight comms, and once more a stream of missiles flew towards their targets. However, unlike the fighters, the bombers were heavily armored, and to them, a missile was a minor nuisance, nothing more. Of the eight missiles that Eugene personally launched, only two got through the bomber formation's precise defensive fire, and neither warhead got past the enemy's shields. A red warning light on his control panel promptly showed him that only four heavy missiles remained in his magazines, meaning that, once again, the only way to reliably down that bomber was by closing to cannon range. Accelerating towards the heavy Ethereal craft, he formed up behind Maroon 2, electing to serve as a wingman to the more experienced pilot. Maroons 5 and 6 formed up to his left, while Maroon 1 was left alone, the sixth member of Maroon Flight having been downed during the dogfight with the Ethereal fighters.

"Here we go!" Maroon 2 called out as faint sparkles in the distance indicated the bombers opening fire with defensive plasma guns. Moments later, the two of them were once more dancing through a series of evasive maneuvers, but no amount of defensive fire could stop them from closing on their targets.

"Guns, guns, guns!" The call rang out, and five pairs of heavy disruptor guns raked the bomber formation, sparking off the larger craft's shields. Each Ethereal bomber was a large, circular craft, heavily shielded and armed with two turreted plasma cannons, as well as enough heavy munitions to destroy a light cruiser if left unchecked. Fortunately for the human armada, this particular flight of bombers had indeed been checked, as five fighters screamed past, their targets desperately taking evasive action, but while Ethereal fighters were nimble, the bombers were much less so, having traded inertial compensators for additional payload. They could move fast, sure, but only in a straight line. This meant that, to the human fighters now circling their formation, these bombers were just one step above the drones they blew out of the sky back in training over Luna.

The second pass took three bombers with it, with shields dropping on two more. Those two died in the next pass. Again and again Maroon flight slashed through the enemy formation until nothing but dust and debris remained.

"Veiled Eye to Maroon Flight, the area is clear. The CAP can deal with any that made it past us." The EWACS craft reported a few moments later. The surviving members of Maroon Flight formed up once more, ready to make their final charge at enemy ships hundreds of times their size and thousands of times their weight. No more fighters assailed them as they closed in on the enemy fleet, the capital ships slowly growing from glowing indicators on his HUD to small specks in the distance. Lock-on tones sounded throughout his cockpit as sensor after sensor painted his fighter, while sparkles of plasma fire in the distance denoted the enemy warships starting to fire their own plasma cannons. Unlike the relatively small guns on the enemy fighters, a single hit from any one of those incoming bolts would be enough to annihilate any craft they hit, shields and all, while their speed was nearly three times that of the smaller fighter guns. The sight of the incoming barrage was enough to force evasive action, and soon the hundreds of Human fighters and bombers were desperately weaving through an intense fusillade of glowing green plasma, the enemy ships rapidly growing in the distance.

"Attention all small craft, allied capital ships have acquired targeting solutions. We are marking their firing lines now. Stay clear if you want to live." The transmission was short and brusque, coming from Maroon Flight's parent carrier, the _XCS Berlin,_ and true to its word, red lanes began to appear on his HUD, denoting the current firing lines of friendly capital ships. Moments later, some of those lines glowed a blinding white as fusion lances sped across the void, slamming into their targets.

"Eyes on enemy CAP, engage at will!" With those words, thousands of small contacts appeared all over Eugene's screen, the enemy fighters flying out of the shadow of the larger Ethereal warships and engaging. These were different from the escort fighters that Maroon Flight had dealt with so far, being designed for knife-fights among the tight confines of friendly fleets. They were ridiculously nimble, sacrificing speed for additional agility, and sacrificed missile space for two large batteries of plasma cannons, one facing forward, the other covering their rear. Warning tones from his HUD screamed to Eugene that his missiles couldn't lock onto anything thanks to outside interference, so once more he switched to guns, and once more he engaged the enemy. As he lined up his shot, he was only dimly aware of Maroon 5 bursting apart several kilometers away, a lucky shot from a shipboard plasma gun catching him unawares. All that mattered now was his opponent, and his firepower. The first target was shredded nigh-instantly, and a short burst clipped a second before he was through the enemy formation, dodging past the tightly packed enemy capital ships as he zoomed out of the enemy force. Two enemy fighters followed him out, and it was with a smile on his face that he locked onto them and fired missiles, now free of whatever interference prevented him from doing so moments before. Two missiles fired, two more kill marks to paint on his fighter. Down to his last two warheads, Eugene reversed course and plunged back into the enemy fleet.

* * *

All was silent on the bridge of the _XCS Warsaw_ , all air in the room, along with that of the rest of the ship, having been evacuated to centralized storage tanks. It was the cheapest, most effective way of preventing fires onboard the ship, while rebreather-equipped pressure suits issued to the crew members prevented the plethora of other issues present with working in near-total vacuum. Communication was handled via built-in suit radio, neatly circumventing the ability of ordinary sound to travel in a vacuum. Admiral Lebedev's own suit was only slightly more ornate than those of the rest of the officers, having a slight gold trim around the shoulders, and his four stars emblazoned on its helmet. On his right hip, the man wore a short saber, its hilt gilded as of his ascendancy to Admiral, while its fusion edge was safely deactivated. However, for all its ceremonial appearance, it had seen its fair share of action, as in the cramped confines of starships, melee weapons were just as valuable, if not more so, than the pistols every crewman, Admiral included, wore on their other hip.

"All fighter squadrons have successfully engaged the enemy."

"CAP forces have engaged the surviving enemy bombers."

"Heavy Cruiser _Urup_ kill. Light cruiser."

" _Warsaw_ bomber kill. Frigate."

"Destroyer _Hermes-22_ foundered."

The orderly chaos of the CIC rang out through Admiral Lebedev's ears as he stared up at the holo-projection that took up the vast majority of the room. In one corner, the enormous bulk of the planet lay, while on the other end lay the Ethereal fleet. In comparison to the planet in the other corner, even the massive Temple Ship looked tiny, but then again, so did the entirety of the human defending fleet, that even now advanced towards the enemy at approximately one thousandth of light-speed, their fusion lances crossing the void between the fleets in moments, while slower plasma bolts flew towards whatever few enemy bombers managed to make it through the fighter screens. As he looked on, several squadrons of frigates sped ahead to engage the smaller bombers, performing their job admirably. However, it was not without its risks, as one of Ethereal bombers proved by unloading its deadly cargo into a frigate at what, in space, would be considered point-blank range.

"Something's not right here." The admiral spoke after a few moments.

"What makes you think that?" His XO asked.

"These head-on tactics don't seem like something the Ethereals would do, and-"

"Buoy at L-point Alpha is reporting adjacent gravitational shockwaves. Multiple enemy contacts exiting FTL!" The sensor officer cut him off. Had the admiral's head snapped around any faster at that, he would have broken his neck.

"Type, speed and heading?" Nikita demanded of the officer as the new contacts showed up on screen.

"Looks like forty-eight high-speed transports, twelve frigates, a light cruiser, and a fast carrier. Speed is 0.005c, and they're heading directly for the planet. It's an invasion force."

"Damn. Tell FrigRons 44 and 45 to engage the enemy. Divert the 882nd through 892nd wings from CAP duty to do the same. I want those transports stopped at all costs!" The order was obeyed without question, and moments later, the _Warsaw's_ defensive screen of frigates was halved, as thirty-six frigates and two light cruisers split away from the formation, taking several wings of fighters and bombers with them.

For a few minutes, all was normal as the interception force proceeded to its target. Then the two forces met, and the transports vanished, their mass signatures disappearing from the screen. The rest of the ships remained, however, and promptly engaged the confused Human forces.

Moments later, one of the sensor officers called out, alerting him to one FTL entry shockwave, and two simultaneous exit shockwaves almost immediately afterwards. One was another force of transports exiting FTL dangerously close to the world's asteroid moon, the Ethereal Temple Ship doubtlessly having sensors powerful enough to allow them to exit FTL with such precision. The other was the force that had jumped away, having performed a micro-jump that placed them dangerously close to the now-weakened human carrier group.

"Give me numbers, now!" Nikita demanded.

"Three light cruisers, a heavy carrier, eight light carriers, and twenty-three frigates. Carriers are launching fighters, cruisers are firing!" The sensor officer reported as alarms blared throughout the bridge, the _Warsaw's_ shields absorbing several direct hits from opposing fusion lances. At this close range, the enemy's plasma batteries were also blazing away, and even now the first of the bright green bolts were slamming into the Warsaw's Disruptor Shields. The Human Heavy Carrier responded in kind, as while it lacked a fusion lance, it still held a formidable arsenal of dual-purpose plasma turrets, which even now pointed themselves at the nearest Ethereal vessel and opened up, bright blue-green bolts crossing the divide between ships and causing ripples to grow on the enemies' shields, the bright red barriers protecting the Ethereal Light Cruiser flashing as they were hit. Bright crimson beams soon began to fly as well, as dedicated point-defense lasers opened up on enemy bombers, the more powerful, but shorter ranged, Disruptor CIWS systems opening up shortly afterwards, spraying their lethal firepower into space as the two forces manuvered closer to each other, the humans attempting to turn the battle into a point-blank broadside fight, while the Ethereals attempted to mix themselves in with the human forces in order to keep the fusion lance batteries on the nearby moon from getting a clear shot.

However, the moon's defenses did not fire, as the human orbital fortress was having its own problems, as the Ethereal transports hurtled towards the asteroid moon's surface, their heavily reinforced prows slamming into the hard, frozen surface, their deadly cargoes streaming out of their hulls, while small turrets on the ships themselves suppressed the human defenders. From afar, the asteroid moon appeared to be sparkling as human and alien traded fire, while up above the transports' escort ships screamed low over the moon's surface, pouring fire into human defensive installations.

However, the battle on the moon was less pressing than the situation on the _Warsaw,_ as concentrated fire from two Ethereal Light Cruisers and their frigate escorts whittled down the massive vessel's vortex shields, the defensive barrier winking out of existence after nearly twenty minutes of constant bombardment. Two bright fusion lances slammed into the massive Heavy Carrier, and had the atmosphere not been evacuated, those two strikes could have been fatal. However, as it was, the vacuum inside the ship prevented the relativistic fusion reaction from igniting anything, and the lack of atmosphere prevented what could have otherwise been lethal shockwaves from breaking the vessel's spine. However, the white-hot lances were still able to cause two large breaches in the carrier's hull, one on the crew deck, and the other on the Hangar deck. The Ethereal light carriers was quick on the draw, turning to face the damaged, but far from crippled, Human flagship. Ethereal carriers often doubled as troopships, and often carried automated boarding parties within large torpedoes, torpedoes that even now were leaving their tubes, aimed for the hull breaches. Admiral Lebedev's hand went to his saber as he spoke into the ship-wide comms, alerting the on-board marine contingent, as well as all other crewmen, to prepare to repel hostile boarding parties.

Even as he gave the order, more transports dropped out of FTL, their entry coordinated by the Ethereal Temple Ship, allowing them to appear just outside Serpens Ultima's atmosphere.

His forces all tied up in battle, Nikita could do little else than send a warning transmission down to the planet's surface, alerting them of the enemy's landing site, and hoping for the best.

* * *

"Attention all members of the 2346th Earth Armored Regiment. Mount up immediately, we are under attack by hostile landing forces. They're coming down on top of us, hard approach. Repeat, all members of the 2346th Earth Armored Regiment are to mount up immediately." The voice of Colonel Jurgen rang out in Sergeant Arnold Dubois' ears as he scrambled to his tank. Up ahead, his Main Gunner, Ernst Jaeger, had already reached the vehicle, scrambling into the T-109 Super Bradford's turret cupola, while Preston Miller, his Anti-Air gunner, practically leaped in behind him.

Teresa Mendez, his Driver, reached the tank moments before he did, throwing open the driver's compartment hatch and climbing in as he scrambled up the side of the tank. A few meters away from him, 'Beda', a Slavic crewed T-109, was already starting up its engine, rising to hover above the ground on a cushion of Elerium-powered science. The tank had originally been christened 'Pobeda', but the first two letters had been scorched off by a glancing hit in a pitched battle two years before. The crew had laughed at that, and had promptly renamed the tank. Arnold still didn't get the joke though, as aside from a few curses his knowledge of old Russian was next to nonexistent.

"Impatient little bastards, aren't they?" Ernst asked as he entered the vehicle.

"You got that right, the alien fucks aren't even waiting for orbital superiority!" Arnold replied as the base's surface-to-orbit plasma guns opened up on the enemy transports that even now blazed down near-vertically through the atmosphere.

There were two ways of landing a large transport on a planet. The first was a 'soft' approach, which involved a shallow re-entry, and a long cruise to the target destination. Of course, without orbital support, such an approach would often lead to the transports being blown out of the air by ground-based anti-ship artillery before they reached the target. That was why the 'hard' approach existed. During this approach, the transports would dive into the atmosphere nearly perpendicular to the planet's surface, approaching fast enough that ground-based defenses wouldn't be able to lock on for a significant amount of time. Of course, this method also placed considerable stress on a vessel's re-entry shields, and if they went down the ship was a lost cause. However, with orbital superiority still undecided, the hard approach was the best one.

"Start the engine! They're coming down right on top of us, and I don't want to be caught napping!" Arnold shouted into the driver's compartment, the vehicle purring to life moments later, coming to a hover about two feet above the ground. A few moments later, the turret whirred to life as Ernst quickly put the device through its paces. With those actions, Arnold's T-109 'Super Bradford' MBT, Serial Number 72140 'Ice Cream Truck', came to life, ready to kill aliens once more.

'Ice Cream Truck' was a T-109-4 'Super Bradford' Main Battle Tank, built on Mars alongside thousands of its fellow tanks. The T-109 had been Humanity's Main Battle Tank design ever since the start of the Fourth Ethereal War fifty years before, although the design had been regularly updated as technology advanced and tactics changed. Its main armament was an Ares PKL-48 Variable Duty Plasma Cannon, which jutted out just past the end of the vehicle's front, although its short barrel was not at all indicative of its devastating stopping power. Its secondary armament, meanwhile, consisted of four MPL-89 Laser CIWS cannons, two on each side of the turret, which were manned by the tank's AA gunner. The weapons were originally designed to intercept Alien Blaster Launcher rounds before they could detonate, but they turned out to be effective against everything from low flying aircraft to enemy infantry, their high rate of fire, pinpoint accuracy, and near-universal coverage making them both cheap and effective weapons. The tank's armament was completed by a Fusion Bomb Launcher in the rear of the turret, its targeting system being fixed on a flexible mount on top of the vehicle's turret.

The tank's defenses, meanwhile, were composed of two heavy Disruptor Shield generators, technology that, in the early days of EWIV, had made the vehicle all but invincible. Now, however, while still effective against Ethereal weaponry, the shields were far from the impregnable barriers they once were, which was why the tank also had thick Alloy-D armor, ranging in thickness from ten to thirty centimeters, with an additional centimeter of APDBA Ablative Plate on top of that. However, while this protection made the tank heavy indeed, the Helios-D-5330 Elerium Drive within it hull made that weight a non-factor. Under ideal conditions the tank could make up to 200 kilometers per hour, although outside of a perfectly smooth, clear track this speed was horribly impractical. All together, this combination of lethal armament, thick defenses, and incredible speed made the T-109-4 'Super Bradford'

"Driver, take us out, nice and easy. Watch for pedestrians." Arnold ordered.

"Gotcha Sir." Teresa replied, guiding the tank out of its platoon revetment with practiced ease.

"All armored units are to report to pre-determined co-ordinates in accordance to defense plan H-Gamma Three. Enemy ETA is approximately five minutes, so move at maximum safe speed. Good luck. Terra Invicta." The orders came in loud and clear through Arnold's headset moments later, co-ordinates appearing on his helmet's HUD moments later.

"Driver, take us to Hill 449, Max safe speed. AA, watch for early launches."

"Roger." The two crew members chorused as the tank sped out of its revetment, following the 'Beda' to Hill-449. Looking out of the commander's cupola, Arnold looked up at the massive burning streaks that denoted the enemy transports performing their hard insertion.

"They weren't kidding when they said they were coming down on top of us." He muttered.

"You got that right, one of them looks like it's coming down right onto our base." Preston chimed in, the vehicle's laser cannons spinning around, scanning the area for potential targets.

"Why wouldn't they? I mean, we've done the same in the past." Arnold replied, watching as the bright streaks of defensive weaponry fired up at the distant, but rapidly closing, transport.

"Attention! All forces are to immediately brace for nuclear-equivalent kinetic impact! Enemy transport has been downed, impact site is Sector D-12. All units in Sector D-12 are to clear out immediately. All airborne units are to commence anti-nuclear maneuvers. Estimated time to impact is two minutes. Repeat..." The warning had barely started to repeat itself by the Arnold slammed the cupola door shut, checking to make sure it was sealed tight.

"Looks like the AAO boys have managed to hit something." Preston commented.

"I'd hate to be one of the poor bastards in D-12 though." Ernst replied.

"We're here." Teresa added.

"Good. Set us down, but keep the drives warm. I don't want to be thrown around by the blast, but I want to be mobile on a moment's notice." With a light hum, the vehicle descended, setting down on the hard, dry soil of Hill 449. Seconds ticked by, then one minute, then two, then...

The blast was the first sound that was heard, as the massive transport slammed into the ground, its Elerium drive detonating spectacularly moments later. It was followed by the sound of roaring, gale-force winds as air rushed in to fill the sudden vacuum, creating a towering mushroom cloud over the battlefield. Even as the mushroom cloud rose into the air though, the remaining alien transports came down, slowing themselves down as best they could, the ground shaking as they lightly crashed into it. One came down barely three kilometers away from Hill 449, huge deployment ramps slamming open along its sides, while bright red energy shields burst into being, keeping the disembarking troops out of immediate danger.

"Open fire!" The command was given. The die was cast. All along the line, the assembled tanks opened fire, while self-propelled artillery on the opposite side of the hill did the same.

"Ready Anti-Infantry! Fire at will!" The cannon boomed moments after Arnold gave the order, the bright blue-green beam slamming into a cluster of hostile infantry that were just disembarking. The four laser cannons joined in moments later, sweeping the area with incandescent red death, tearing apart any foe they encountered. Then, around a hundred meters down the line, a tank exploded, a deluge of bright green bolts whittling down its shields in moments, before an overcharged shot from one of its assailants punched through its armor and detonated its Elerium core, causing the vehicle to go up in a bright flash of green.

"Seekers!" The warning sent a shiver of fear down Arnold's spine, as less than a second later the bane of Human tankmen everywhere opened fire once again.

During the start of the Fourth Ethereal War, human tanks were all but invincible thanks to Disruptor Shield technology, which had been reverse-engineered from the Micronoids during their attempted invasion of the Sol system. It had rendered the vehicles all but invincible against the Ethereal anti-armor weapons of the time, allowing them to withstand anything short of an airstrike with nary a scratch. Then the Ethereals rolled out a new series of anti-tank weapons, with dual modes of fire. The first was a high-intensity rapid fire burst designed to strip away Disruptor shields, while the second was an overcharged bolt designed to punch through Human tank armor. To make matters worse, this new weapon had been mounted on Seekers, turning what had, until then, been a minor nuisance and harassment unit into a lethal, unpredictable tank destroyer. This, when coupled with advances in cloaking technology, made Seekers completely undetectable unless they were firing, at which point only the origin point of the plasma bolt was visible. Already red fire raked the skies above the armored line, occasionally striking and de-cloaking the deadly robots, at which point every laser in the area would converge on it and melt it down to slag.

"Sit tight 449, this is Anthill. We've got Gnomes in the air. We'll take care of your squid problem." The calm message from behind the lines came just as the tank to the left of 'Ice Cream Truck' detonated in a flash of green. This time, the culprit was an Ethereal tank, the hostile vehicle having exited the transport's shields as the Seekers wreaked havoc.

"Gunner! AT! Tank, Plus twelve, minus thirteen!" Arnold shouted, ordering the main gun set to Anti-Tank, and calling out the target's bearing.

"Identified! Up!" Ernst called out. The target was now in his sights, and the gun was set correctly.

"Fire!" The gun blazed.

"Hit!" The enemy tank blazed. Unlike their human counterparts, Ethereal armored vehicles rarely had defensive shields, although their armor was much stronger to compensate. Of course, while the old Bradford-III's PKL-42 of the previous fifteen years would have struggled to penetrate the thick alloy plate, the Super Bradford's PKL-48 cannon punched clean through it, the shot's containment fields losing cohesion in the enemy crew compartment if the turret blowing off was any indication.

"Kill confirmed!" Both Gunner and Commander cheered in unison.

"Driver, move out! Gunner, Tank, Minus two, minus twelve!" Arnold ordered a moment later as the enemy vehicle's two companions took aim with intent to return fire. The two bright green lances of light passed through empty air as Teresa traversed the tank to the left, bumping up against the burnt out carcass of the tank that once occupied that particular position.

"Identified!"

"Fire!"

"Hit!" The shot left a bright, glowing score along the side of the enemy vehicle, but the return shot striking the shields moments later told Arnold that it wasn't a kill.

"Target still up! Fire!"

"Hit!" This time, the tank went up in a burst of green light, its Elerium core rupturing and detonating.

"Kill confirmed!" The crew cheered once more.

"Driver, move out!" Once more the tank repositioned, avoiding the precise return fire of the Ethereal armor. As 'Ice Cream Truck' shifted, 'Beda' fired on its right, killing the third Ethereal vehicle. However, as the other Human tank was repositioning, it caught a point-blank barrage from a Seeker. The alien drone was taken out by a Gnome Anti-Seeker Drone before it could kill its target, but the damage was done, and the tank's Disruptor shields were breached. A moment later, a bright green bolt shot out from the plain below. It was a glancing hit, but it still burned away the ablative coating on the tank's left side. A shot from the vehicle to the 'Beda's right killed the enemy before it could follow up though, and 'Beda' retreated safe and sound to recharge its shields.

"Come in 2346th Regiment, this is the 23rd Ganymede Close Support Wing. Name the target and we'll obliterate it." The cocky, Jovian-accented voice of the Regiment's air support rang out in Arnold's ears. The AH-91 Firebrand VTOLs had hidden behind nearby hills to protect themselves from the blast, and had only now managed to get airborne once more. Moments later, someone higher than Arnold in the command chain ordered a general airstrike. Immediately, area around the transport was raked by fusion bomb and plasma cannon fire as the Firebrands tore up the area.

"2346th Regiment! Forward!" The command came moments later from the same officer.

"You heard the man! Charge!" Teresa didn't need to be told twice, as the tank vaulted over the ridge line, accelerating towards the disorganized enemy forces. The first foes to feel 'Ice Cream Truck's wrath were a pair of Sectoid Shocktroopers, the oversized, muscular creatures going flying as the heavy vehicle ran over them. The shocktroopers were a necessary adaptation on the enemy's part, as the capture of the Muton homeworld early on in the Human offensive had effectively cut off the Ethereal supply of Muton stock, meaning that other races were needed to fill the gap. Of course, like any infantry, a tank could run over them just fine, as 'Ice Cream Truck' demonstrated.

"Gunner! Tank, Plus fifty-three, minus one!" The next armored target was spotted, as the tank's laser cannons laid waste to everything around the vehicle, swiveling around wildly on their individual mounts as Preston operated them.

"Identified!" Once more 'Ice Cream Truck's turret swiveled around, its gun depressing the needed amount as Ernst took aim.

"Fire!"

"Hit!" The enemy vehicle brewed up, its turret bursting open as something, likely its main gun, detonated inside.

"Kill confirmed!" A flash of green off to the tank's left alerted Arnold to the presence of another tank, as the hostile vehicle fired on the 'Beda', the vehicle's Disruptor shields once again going down. However, the hit failed to take out the vehicle, and 'Beda's turret swung around and destroyed the enemy.

Then, moments later, a second plasma bolt punched through 'Beda's rear, and smoke began to rise from the engine compartment. As Arnold called out the next enemy's position, the fire began to grow, the other vehicle's fire suppression system evidently having been damaged by the hit. Then, even as Ernst added another tank kill to his crew's tally, several hatches popped open on 'Beda's turret and front, as the crew bailed out, the AA gunner clambering out of the turret cupola first, standard-issue plasma SMG in hand, leaping down from the side as smoke poured from the open hatch. Evidently, the fire had spread to the fighting compartment. The gunner clambered out next, clutching his own SMG, and jumped down, several plasma bolts just barely missing him. The driver, meanwhile, was clambering out of his own hatch, but just as he managed to extricate himself from the vehicle, a plasma bolt caught him in the chest. His tanker's vest, designed to protect against shrapnel and the remnants of plasma bolts that had prematurely lost cohesion, was useless against the direct hit, and the man fell forward, chest blown open. The tank commander was the last to attempt evacuation, clambering out the cupola, SMG in one hand and a fire extinguisher in the other. A plasma bolt caught him in the head, killing him instantly. Moments later, the tank brewed up in a flash of green light. The two escaped crewmen, who were using the vehicle for cover, didn't stand a chance.

"Damn..." Arnold muttered as he helplessly watched four men die.

"Couldn't run, couldn't stay." Preston replied, not pausing in his laser barrage. Arnold didn't reply, however, as he spotted another enemy vehicle.

"Gunner! Psy-car, Plus twenty-two, level!" Unlike the tanks they had cut through before, the hostile psionic assault vehicle was heavily shielded, both by the glowing crimson energy barriers used by Ethereal forces, and by the nigh-invisible telekinetic barrier thrown up by the heavily altered super-sectoid within.

It was a well known fact that the Ethereals were on their last legs in terms of physical state, as even their immense psionic powers couldn't keep their decaying bodies functioning forever, a fact that the men back in the Propaganda department were very keen on reminding the human race. After all, if their enemy was dying, humanity didn't have to win. It only had to outlast. However, even though the Ethereals had vanished from the battlefield by the time the EWIV began, the need for a strong psionic unit remained, hence the so-called 'Super-Sectoid'. Little more than a massive, oversized brain connected to tiny, useless limbs, the Super Sectoids were almost always hard-wired into oversized psionic amplifiers, which were in turn often attached to so-called Psy-cars, designed to keep both amplifier and operator safe and mobile on the battlefield.

"Identified!"

"Fire!" The cannon blazed, and the bolt lanced towards the enemy vehicle. However, just as it was about to hit the other vehicle's shields, it suddenly changed direction, dealing the crimson barriers a glancing blow as it flew off into nowhere.

"Deflection! Fire!" The cannon blazed once more, and once more the shot was deflected. At that point the hostile vehicle was glowing purple as it charged up to retaliate, and before Arnold could order another shot, the opposing vehicle attacked. No amount of armor or disruptor shielding could stop the psionic bolt of energy as it sought out the minds of the vehicle's occupants.

"Psi-" A cry of agony cut off Arnold's warning as the psionic attack met its mark. It was an attack that had only one defense, and that was rigorous training. Every member of the Human armed forces trained at Luna academy had been forced to undergo hours of mind control resilience training, being subjected to nonstop psionic assault, first by psionic trainees to get a feel for what was going on, then by hardened instructors to practice defending against it. It was that training that now kept Arnold thinking straight as he fought against the mental assault.

Being on the receiving end of full-blown mental domination wasn't like having a voice in your head that told you to kill your allies. Instead, those on the receiving end found out that they WERE the voice in their own head, desperately trying to keep their body from turning against humanity. Fortunately, after what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only a few seconds, the assault was over, and Arnold awakened to a revolving turret. Evidently, Ernst hadn't been as fortunate, as he had the characteristic blank look and glowing purple eyes of a mental domination victim. A quick, hard strike to the gunner's brachial plexus took care of that problem, as the gunner collapsed limply in his seat. However, while an unaffected person would only be briefly stunned by such an attack, the effects of mind-control caused Ernst to lapse into unconsciousness, completely incapacitated by the combination of nerve strike and mind control.

"Sound off!" Arnold shouted as he pushed the limp form of his gunner out of his seat, jumping into the gunner's seat in his place.

"I'm clean!"

"Clean!"

The two replies from his fellow conscious crew caused him to smile. It seemed as though they had fought off the enemy mind control as well.

"Good. AA, open fire on the Psi-car. Two guns." Arnold ordered as he settled into the Gunner's seat, peering through the sights and centering them on his target, the red glow of the Psi-car's shields amplified by the bright red streams of light deflecting off the vehicle's telekinetic field.

"Firing!" With that word, he pulled the trigger, and the enemy vehicle disappeared in a cloud of smoke as a Firebrand VTOL flew overhead, unloading its missiles into the unsuspecting foe. When the smoke cleared, only a burning wreck remained. The aftermath was eerily quiet, broken only by sporadic small-arms fire as infantry charged in to clear the mostly-empty transport ship.

"That their kill or ours?" Preston asked, as Arnold bent down to shake Ernst awake.

"Ours, of course. We have the bigger gun!" He declared in response.

"But they're faster and have miniature nuclear weapons." Preston countered.

"Are you, an AA gunner, arguing in the flyboys' favor?"

"Meh, I always did want to be a pilot."

"Then why aren't you one?"

"Because I failed flight school. That's why I'm not allowed to drive the tank!"

"So you became the AA gunner?"

"Well if I can't fly, no-one will!"

The banter continued for a while as the tank hovered outside the landed enemy ship, too big to fit inside, and with no more enemies on the ground to engage. Occasionally, Preston would squeeze off a burst into the air as he spotted an enemy flyer near the edge of his guns' effective ranges, but other than that the battlefield was quiet. The landing ship was soon clear, any last holdouts onboard being systematically smoked out by flamethrowers and plasma fire. Judging by the comm-chatter, the same scene was repeating itself across the battlefield.

"Strange." Ernst remarked once the all-clear was sounded, the tank turning and heading back to what was left of the base.

"What?" Teresa asked from her compartment below.

"This doesn't seem like the Ethereals. I mean, attacking a purely military world without orbital support, and with so little manpower? If I didn't know better, I'd suggest incompetence on the part of the enemy." The Gunner replied.

"I've been having the same thought. This just doesn't seem like them." Arnold replied.

"Maybe the wrinkly old bastards are finally going senile." Preston joked.

"Let's hope so." Arnold replied.

* * *

"Enemy forces have retreated out of system. Grav-buoys indicate that they have exited FTL approximately three light-years away from the star." Admiral Lebedev sighed at that report.

"Looks like they're blockading us." The admiral stated the obvious as the sounds of weapon fire on the deck below slowly petered out, the onboard Marine contingent slowly but surely eliminating what remained of the enemy boarding parties. It had been a close battle, and the _Warsaw_ was in severe need of repairs after it rammed one of the attacking light cruisers, neatly shattering the enemy vessel, shields and all, but crushing the entirety of the Heavy Carrier's prow in the process.

"Small craft are being recovered, and we have begun to restore atmosphere to safe rooms. I will have a full report of our losses and damages within three Solar hours." Natalia continued her report as air slowly hissed into the room once more.

"Good. Send a message to ComNavPer requesting for relief. How are our supplies?"

"Auto-farm productivity down on the planet has been reduced by approximately forty percent. If repairs are finished fast enough, we will be able to scrape by on rations. However, our orbital infrastructure was severely damaged. We will not be able to manufacture replacement parts for our fleet any time soon."

"Sir, ComNavPer is on the line. Priority-Two channel is open on hyperwave." A communications officer reported moments after Natalia finished speaking.

"Onscreen, now." The holoprojection of Grand Admiral Warren Perry, Commander of Navy, Perseus, or ComNavPer for short, shimmered into existence in front of the system map. Nikita saluted as it did so.

"At ease, Fleet Admiral. I assume that the attack on Serpens Ultima has been repelled successfully?" The Grand Admiral got down to business immediately.

"Yes Sir, the enemy forces have retreated, but we are now blockaded in-system. I would like to request a relief force to be sent as soon as possible." Nikita reported. Upon hearing this, Warren shook his head.

"I am afraid that we cannot spare any forces to relieve you at this time. The entire Perseus line is under assault by multiple Ethereal battle fleets. We're barely holding the line as is, and our scouts report second and third waves incoming. We're all tied up, and reinforcements are days away at least."

"How? Shouldn't we have had ample warning?" Nikita demanded.

"We thought that the attack on Serpens Ultima was a large-scale probing assault, as has been done several times before. Whenever one of those occurred in the past, the enemy would always send small probing fleets at the rest of our line to check for weak points. We in turn engage these probing attacks and destroy them. Today, our patrol fleets engaged the enemy attacks as usual, and those that managed to get away started screaming about how they were full-blown battle fleets using some sort of grav-signature altering technology, which you have already encountered. Evidently, the Ethereals have already mass-produced it."

"So it wasn't just a combat trial after all. What are my orders, sir?"

"Can you run the blockade?"

"Negative. Preliminary damage reports suggest that nearly half the fleet is too damaged for long-distance FTL. We'll fall apart if we try to jump more than a light year at a time, and we don't have an Elerium Sling in-system. For all intents and purposes, we're stuck here."

"I see. In that case, your orders are to hold out for as long as you can. We will relieve you if possible, but until then you are to hold position and harass the enemy whenever you can. I trust that the supply situation isn't too bad?"

"I believe that we will be able to pull through. What about reinforcements? Can the Perseus line hold?"

"We're holding out for now, and ComNavInt has already mobilized what he can on such short notice, with a promise of more on the way. We will likely be pushed back by around twenty to thirty light years, but we can endure. We've faced worse odds, after all."

"Very well then. I will endeavor to hold Serpens Ultima to the best of my ability. Just don't forget about us!" The Grand Admiral laughed at that.

"If you're still there by the time we push the line back, I'll have you all sent back to Sol for commendations. ComNavPer out." The hologram winked out of existence, leaving Nikita to stare at the empty systems map. A few seconds passed with only the low hiss of atmosphere and the hum of technology pervading the room. Then, Natalia spoke up.

"Sir? What do we do?"

A slight hiss rang out in the room as the Admiral removed his helmet, his face set in a grim smile.

"We hold this system. I want our ships patched up within the next three solar days. Use debris from the ring if needed. Next priority is getting the orbital infrastructure back up and running. I want all the engineers we can spare to work on getting that orbital fortress operational. We need those parts if we want our fleet to be fully combat ready."

"What about crew losses?" Natalia asked.

"If necessary, we will pull what we can from the ground forces. The Colonel will bitch about it, but I can pull rank."

"I see."

"Then let us get started. The system won't hold itself, after all!" And so, the bitter struggle continued.

* * *

It was a perfect day for a parade, mused Simon Hutch, head of the XCOM Department of Propaganda. Of course, August 25th was always a good day, the weathermen having worked overtime to create picturesque sunny skies and gentle breezes for the Victory Day Cadets' March. After all, it wouldn't do for something as simple as rain to spoil the annual spectacle. Said spectacle now unfolded below him, as millions of cadets, aged between sixteen and seventeen, marched through the New London city streets. He had just given a speech on the events that now unfolded across Human space, his voice being broadcast to every human colony in the galaxy and heard by billions of souls, all of whom already knew exactly what was going on.

All around the world, and on every one of humanity's populated colonies, almost every single human aged between sixteen and seventeen now marched to their local space port, nearly two billion souls destined to follow in the footsteps of their mothers and fathers. Military service was mandatory for the human race. The only ones who avoided the draft were the very few cripples who could not be healed even by modern medical science, and the few prodigies whom the XCOM Research and Development Bureau took an interest in. Everyone else, no matter their parents, gender or social status, went into the military. Nearly sixty years before, Hutch had made the same journey, clad in a dress uniform that, while it looked good, had clearly been recycled many times before, with an old, cheap, showpiece rifle over his shoulder. Then came the four years at Luna Academy, where he graduated an infantryman. Two ten year tours of duty came next, followed by a fifteen year stint in the logistics corps, and then another six in Information Warfare before he was approached by a pair of suited individuals and offered a position in the Department of Propaganda. Now, nearly halfway through his life, the sixty-five year old Department Head watched another generation of youths march past on jackbooted feet, their parents cheering them along on the sidelines.

However, half of the young men now marching would not return home, their fate being death on the battlefield. However, Humanity could not afford to falter, even in the face of such a horrific attrition rate. No, the only option Humanity had was to keep growing. For every soldier that died in action, five children were had by the one who made it back. XCOM Executive Order 2381 made it so.

It was that executive order that ensured that nearly every woman watching the parade was pregnant. It was that executive order that ensured that every human being watching the parade worked long hours in the many factories of Earth to keep the soldiers at the front supplied. What many people a century and a half before would have called barbaric was now being embraced as a necessity, an attitude that Simon was instructed to maintain. In the early days, there were philosophers and poets who cried at how the human race's humanity had been stripped away. Some ended up making propaganda, while many more simply vanished, arrested for sedition. After all, any disunity in the human race could end up costing them the war. That was why the Propaganda Department, in addition to managing education and the media, also headed the Anti-Sedition Police (ASP), one of humanity's three secret police forces. The ASPs were the least utilized of all three secret police units, as the times of protests, opposition media and draft-dodging were long over, and their sphere of influence did not extend beyond the 'pacified' areas of space, which were far enough behind the lines that the threat of hostile military action was negligible.

"A fine speech, Mr. Hutch." A smooth, cultured voice brought the Propaganda Minister out of his musings. He turned to see his ever-present shadow, David Blake, standing behind him, an easygoing smile on his face. Officially, the man was Simon's bodyguard, but in reality, he was Simon's handler. He was, after all, a member of the Ordermen. Highly trained, all veterans of no less than four tours of duty, and loyal only to the XCOM High Commander, the Ordermen were the second secret police force at XCOM's disposal. Their purpose was simple: To keep the other politicians and high-ranking officers on a leash. After all, a government coup would be potentially devastating at this juncture.

"It was nothing, really. I just switched out a few parts of last year's speech." Simon replied, shrugging off the praise with a smile.

"I don't remember the part about utopia after victory being in last year's speech."

"You weren't my bodyguard five years ago, when I last repeated that segment."

"I see." The words were friendly, but carried a pointed undertone. The man was asking for an explanation.

"I usually get these speeches done an hour or so before the actual event. Being Propaganda Head isn't exactly the easiest job in the world, and I don't want to waste government funds on a speechwriter. After all, given the current state of affairs, ASP is getting rather restless. I'm sure you remember how I spent all of last week negotiating with the Industry Head about getting more of my men on his production lines. I know that ASP is little more than a stepping stone for wannabe ExAlt Hunters, but even then we must do our utmost to serve the human race." Simon replied. Everything he said was true, as there simply wasn't enough seditious activity going on anymore to justify ASP's current existence, the organization's main purpose currently being that of a stepping stone to the largest branch of XCOM secret police, the ExAlt hunters, jokingly known as the Inquisition to some. However, the Inquisition's job was anything but a joke. They were tasked with hunting down Extraterrestrially Altered Individuals, or ExAlts, who served as nigh-undetectable sleeper agents for the alien menace.

"We all must do our best for humanity. After all, if we do not, we won't be human much longer." David answered.

"If I had any of my alcohol ration on me, I'd drink to that." Simon replied.

"Then it's a good thing I do." David said, pulling out a large flask.

"Are you allowed to have that on you while you're on duty?" Simon asked.

"Liver mod. Not even grain alcohol could get me drunk." David replied, as Simon went over to a small cupboard to retrieve a pair of shot glasses, their ornate design showing them to be pre-war heirlooms.

"So you drink for the taste?" He asked.

"Nah, it tastes like Andromedon piss. It's a nice, friendly gesture though, and has all sorts of uses." David replied, pouring the beverage into the glasses.

"Now I'm not sure whether to drink it or not!" Simon laughed as he raised his glass.

"Don't worry, it only tastes like poison." David replied, downing his own. Of course, his modified liver meant that he'd likely be immune to any poison he may have placed into the drink beforehand. However, Simon didn't believe that he had done anything that could jeopardize his life, and thus he prepared to drink his own. After all, refusing the drink would have given the impression that he had something to hide.

"To humanity! May we one day reach the utopia I promised the people." Simon declared as he raised his glass, before downing it in one go.

"You weren't kidding!" He spluttered as he registered the taste.

"I rarely do." David smiled back. Really, the man would have been a great friend were it not for the fact that he had standing orders to kill him at the first sign of disloyal behavior.

However, as it was, man and minder maintained a cordial working relationship by sharing another drink, while down below them a younger generation marched off to follow in their footsteps.

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 **A/N: And it's finally done! It took about a month longer than expected, but it is finally here! It's certainly different from the original When Civilizations Meet, but this time I had to take XCOM-2 into the equation, which led to a completely different kettle of fish! The next update will likely be a brief timeline (and by brief I mean a monster that could very well extend past the 10k mark. I had a lot of time to brainstorm history.) As for a codex entry describing technology, I might include it if it is demanded enough, but otherwise I would rather let your imagination and the in-story explanations fill in the gaps.**

 **Please let me know what you think of the story so far! It's noticeably different from 'When Civilizations Meet', being much grittier, with a slightly more 'real' portrayal of warfare, rather than the idealized, happy portrayal of the original WCM. I had originally planned to include more scenes of humanity behind the lines, specifically from the eyes of several more characters on Earth and her colonies, but they ended up getting cut due to time and wordcount constraints. I didn't want to write a 20k word prologue, as that would mean that each chapter would need to be at least as long, which would severely slow update time. Even now, I didn't expect the prologue to go past 10k, and here it is at 12.3k words with a slightly abrupt cut-off.**

 **I would also like to thank Phantomwa1ker and Goodpie2 for their help in writing this fic. Both helped with brainstorming the various background details for this fic over a long series of PMs. In fact, you can thank Phantomwa1ker in particular, as were it not for him convincing me, I probably wouldn't have started work on this rewrite at all! Incidentally, Phantom is currently working on his first fic, a Halo/RWBY crossover, which I will likely Beta in the near future. As for Goodpie2, he has written several fics, with my personal favorite being Mythos Effect. I hope that some of you decide to check them out, and once Phantom's own fic is out, I hope you guys give it a look as well!**

 **Any questions you may have, I am willing to answer. Just leave them in a review or PM me. I hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Timeline of Human Military History

**A/N: I am absolutely elated by the amount of positive attention this fic has been getting! As such, I have decided to accelerate work on the timeline of the fic's universe, as that has been requested by multiple reviewers. I hope that this clears up most of the uncertainty that occurred with the Prologue!**

* * *

 _"The Ethereal race is a race of cowards. The second and third wars have empirically proved that! Had they been willing to risk themselves out of anything other than sheer desperation, we would be bowing down to our Great Elderly Overlords right now. But they didn't, and now we're gonna come for them, and one by one we will kill them! And you, son, will be the one to do it!" -_ Last words of General Peter van Doorn.

 **A Brief Timeline of Human Military History during the first three Ethereal Wars (EWI-EWIII), as taken from Humanity Triumphant, a history of the Sol System's Wars, by Irene Carlock.**

 **March 1st, 2015: First Ethereal War (EWI) begins.**

On March 1st, 2015, approximately five hundred unidentified craft appeared in orbit around Earth. Less than twenty minutes later, two hundred troop transports make landfall all over the globe, while targeted airstrikes and precision orbital bombardment prevent humanity from responding in force. Nearly three quarters of Humanity's combined air force is destroyed over the next two days, either on the ground or in the air. Anti-shipping strikes bring maritime travel to a halt, while all human warships at anchor are destroyed by a combination of aerial and orbital strikes. Two thirds of humanity's ground forces are destroyed over the next two weeks.

Once it becomes clear that conventional forces cannot repel the alien threat, no fewer than three hundred nuclear weapons are deployed by humanity in a desperate attempt to prevent the Ethereal forces from establishing a foothold on Earth. None of these warheads detonate, with both bombers and missiles being intercepted in flight by patrolling Ethereal fighters.

 **March 22nd, 2015: ADVENT Coalition is formed.**

Almost as soon as the Ethereals began their invasion, there were people who called for immediate and unconditional surrender. While at first dismissed as raving lunatics, they soon became a tangible threat to humanity's attempts to fight back, leaking information on troop movements to the enemy, actively fighting alongside the aliens, and spreading their propaganda throughout Human-held territory.

The rapid onset of collaboration, which was unexplained at the time and dismissed as insanity, is now known to be the result of ExAlting, or the genetic modification of human abductees in order to create perfect sleeper agents. Human technology at the time was unable to distinguish between an ExAlt and an ordinary human, and any children of an ExAlt would be ExAlts themselves. Given the amount of ExAlts in existence at the time, it is safe to say that a good portion of supposed 'Alien Abduction' stories of the time were the result of Ethereal abductions, with the abductees being converted into ExAlts to expedite the Ethereal conquest of Earth.

On March 22nd, however, Russia is overrun, becoming the first major country to capitulate to the Ethereals, although this surrender is now clearly shown to be a result of Ethereal Mind Control. On the wake of the Russian surrender, Human Collaborators set up their own government under the aliens' watch, calling it the ADVENT Coalition. Over the following days, thousands of Russian civilians are 'conscripted' by ADVENT, being subjected to forceful and invasive augmentation and brainwashing in order to become the first of ADVENT's military.

 **April 13th, 2015: April Fools' Day Offensive fails. EU is overrun.**

The April Fools' Day Offensive was the only coordinated, multi-national offensive of the short war, and it is widely considered to be the only Human offensive to be even partially successful. With Germany having capitulated on March 25th, the April Fools' Day Offensive was Humanity's attempt to take it back, beginning with a forced crossing of the Rhine by multinational forces on April 1st. However, while the Rhine was successfully crossed, the desperate all-out assault is halted at Essen on April 5th by a massed deployment of ADVENT forces. While troops reported the ADVENT modified humans as being poorly coordinated and inexperienced, serving mostly as cannon fodder, their superior, alien-supplied technology allows them to inflict heavy casualties upon the Human forces in a series of human wave assaults between April 5th and 7th. By the dawn of April the 8th, Alien reinforcements are flown in from a newly-subjugated South America, and an Alien 'Battleship' (In reality, a Frigate), takes up position over the Ruhr River Valley. In their desperation, members of the 23rd Special Air Service Regiment sacrifice themselves to detonate a tactical nuclear weapon underneath the Alien warship. The vessel's shields are lowered by the blast, allowing ground-based artillery to down the Ethereal vessel. That frigate was the only Ethereal capital to be successfully downed by Human armed forces during the First Ethereal War.

However, the downing of one frigate heralded the arrival of five more, and the Human forces are driven back across the Rhine by April 10th. By April 13th, the Alien forces have smashed through the final defensive positions of what was once an offensive push, their armed forces reaching Paris two days later.

No surrender ever comes from the French government, and Paris is razed in the ensuing battle. The destruction of Paris sets a grim example for the rest of the EU, and by the end of April the entirety of Europe is under Alien control.

 **May 25th, 2015: Humanity capitulates. First Ethereal War ends, and Ethereal Occupation begins.**

The last vestiges of human resistance are overrun as Camp Pendleton on the US West Coast, having ignored orders for surrender for nearly twenty days, runs out of ammunition and is overrun. No prisoners are taken, and the Marines in the base, having only their knives, are slaughtered. At this point, the only armed resistance remaining was in the form of disparate partisan and guerrilla groups formed composed of everything from military remnants to children carrying their parents' hunting rifles.

 **June 1st, 2015: ADVENT officially becomes the puppet government of Humanity.**

The end of organized resistance five days prior allowed ADVENT to rapidly assume control of the Human governments, and on June 1st, an human-esque alien designated as 'The Speaker' appoints ADVENT as the official governing body of Earth. Over the next few days, ADVENT conscripts turn Earth into a police state, serving as the stick to the Alien metaphorical carrot of 'Gene Therapy', a supposed panacea that promised to both eliminate aging and cure any and all diseases. Ironically, while its true purpose was much more nefarious, the Gene Therapy clinics that opened worldwide are responsible for all but eliminating most of the world's genetic diseases, while nearly all bacteria and virus borne ailments, from Ebola and HIV to the common cold, also vanished from the world, disappearing into the depths of the Ethereal biological warfare laboratories.

 **December 2nd, 2018: Resistance Radio is established.**

The need for an organized resistance was blatantly obvious to everyone capable of seeing the big picture. However, with Earth's satellite network either destroyed or under ADVENT control, and the airwaves carefully monitored, a safe method of communication remained out of humanity's reach. However, on Octover 1st, 2018, a chance discovery by Dr. Moira Vahlen, one of the rare scientists who managed to slip through ADVENT's grasp, leads to the creation of Resistance Radio. The first tower of the communications grid is completed on December 1st, with the first test broadcast being made on December 2nd. Once it was determined that the method was indeed safe, John Bradford, the commander of the the resistance operation that contained Dr. Vahlen, ordered the construction of the worldwide Resistance Radio network.

 **September 15th, 2021: Operation Shot Glass**

Operation Shot Glass is considered by many to be the first significant victory scored by Resistance forces. Posing as turncoats, a Human resistance group in Mexico deliberately broke radio silence in order to offer its surrender to ADVENT, intending to lure a local group of ADVENT into an ambush with a promise of information on the movements of other resistance groups in the area. However, instead of an ADVENT response team, an Ethereal light transport was the response sent. The operation went ahead anyway, and after nearly a day of combat, the Ethereal vessel is captured relatively intact. The newly constructed Resistance Radio tower in the area allowed for several other resistance groups to converge on the area, and the Alien transport is recovered. Over the next two months, the vehicle is transported across North America, being examined along the way by former engineers, who find several transponder beacons clearly intended as tracking devices.

The captured vehicle was eventually analyzed by now-famous minds like Raymond Shen and Moira Vahlen, and data gleaned from analyzing it proved invaluable in jump-starting humanity's reverse engineering of Alien technology.

 **March 1st, 2025: Ethereal Withdrawal Begins**

Despite the success of Operation Shot Glass, Ethereal armed forces announce their plans to start withdrawal from Earth, leaving the planet's security largely in the hands of ADVENT's Peacekeepers. The exact motivation behind these actions is still unclear, but the reduced amount of aliens on Earth was crucial to the success of the coming conflict.

 **July 8th, 2026: Contact is made with William Thorne**

William Thorne has long been one of the most controversial figures in XCOM's history. Originally a politician from the UK who advocated peaceful cooperation with the Ethereals, Thorne was able to quickly work his way into the ADVENT occupational government once the UK fell, slowly climbing through the ranks until, on July 8th, 2026, Thorne made contact with the Resistance forces via a tapped line. Analysis of the man's personal journal reveals that he had reached a high enough rank that he was able to gleans some information regarding the Ethereals' true intentions for the human race, which horrified him into attempting contact with the Resistance. After some wrangling with local Resistance Radio operators, Thorne was able to secure a private conversation with Commander Bradford. The exact specifications of that conversation have never been recorded, but suffice to say, William Thorne proved his worth to the Resistance several times over over the course of the coming years. Thanks to his efforts in diverting supplies and surplus ADVENT gear, the Resistance was able to finish the Resistance Radio network five years ahead of schedule, and the ADVENT equipment proved invaluable in the coming conflict.

 **January 30th, 2031: Resistance Radio Network is completed.**

Plagued by the omnipresent shortage of supplies and personnel, and with secrecy being paramount, the construction of Resistance Radio was not finished until twelve years later. At that point, the vast majority of human resistance forces were unified under the control of Bradford's group. Preparations for the Second Ethereal War begin in earnest.

 **March 1st, 2035: Operation Avenger signals the start of the Second Ethereal War (EWII).**

After twenty years of occupation and guerrilla warfare, of covert preparation and fearful scrounging, the newly christened XCOM (eXtraterrestrial COMbat) Initiative commences the largest offensive operation since the April Fools' Day Offensive of EWI.

Operation Avenger was, in reality, a collective name for three concurrent operations that occurred on the twentieth anniversary of the Ethereal Invasion, taking advantage of the worldwide 'holiday' known as Unification Day.

The first of these operations was Operation Gatecrasher, which consisted of a series of simultaneous bombings of monuments in Ethereal-controlled cities around the globe. Several days earlier, a dress rehearsal of the attack had been carried out on an under-construction Gene Therapy clinic in New Paris, the attack being used to gauge the response times and actions of ADVENT Peacekeepers.

Operation Gatecrasher went off without any major issues, with monuments in every one of the targeted cities being leveled by XCOM strike teams, the attackers being evacuated by re-painted ADVENT dropships, which had been captured on a tip-off from William Thorne, and were now the backbone of XCOM's air force.

However, Operation Gatecrasher was ultimately a diversion for the two other operations that were executed that day.

The first of these two operations was Operation Vulture, which composed of a series of strikes on old military equipment graveyards across the globe. While the old Human militaries were officially disarmed after the First Ethereal War ended, the old aircraft and tank boneyards were low on the Ethereal priority list, as they had very little to gain from scrapping old, rusting military equipment, and the Resistance lacked the necessary expertise to restore, operate or maintain the relics within. Therefore, the Resistance forces sent to old equipment graveyards like the Sierra Nevada Army Depot, the Kharkov Soviet Tank Graveyard, Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, and many other such sites, their intention being to retrieve as many of the rusting military relics as possible. Once the designated boneyards were secured, XCOM forces recovered thousands of tons of antique military equipment over the course of three days, before ADVENT retaliatory forces finally mobilized to challenge them.

However, due to their age and poor condition, none of the recovered vehicles were in serviceable condition. Instead, the recovered vehicles were to serve as training for the next generation of XCOM's engineering corps. After all, the vast majority of people who knew how to build tanks or aircraft were either dead or in ADVENT employ. In order to build the next generation of aircraft and armor, the entire discipline had to be re-discovered. That discovery was facilitated by Operation Vulture, as while they would never see combat again, the vehicles recovered over the course of the operation would go on to inspire the creation of their successors.

The final segment of Operation Avenger was also the most critical. Thanks to information leaked by William Thorne, the general locations of multiple ADVENT concentration camps were made known to XCOM, and Operation Jailbreak was supposed to liberate those camps. However, while Operations Gatecrasher and Vulture went off extremely smoothly, Jailbreak was fraught with problems from the start. Without orbital imaging, and with only the general location of the camps provided to them, not all XCOM teams were in position by the time the March 1st deadline came about, meaning that the teams that did not already locate their target had to keep searching until they found their target one or two days later. Thus, over the course of the next three days, raids on ADVENT camps were carried out to varying degrees of success, rather than the simultaneous assault that was supposed to occur.

The first few raids went off without a hitch, with ADVENT guards being sniped from afar, while incoming dropships painted in ADVENT livery ended up containing more XCOM soldiers, who were quickly able to secure the camps with minimal prisoner casualties. Some of the famous individuals rescued from the camps include Anna Sing, who eventually became XCOM's top scoring female sniper, who revolutionized sniper warfare with the invention of the now-ubiquitous Squadsight module, Thomas Hutch, who was responsible for much of XCOM's propaganda during the war, and Dr. Hongou Marazuki, whose work in theoretical physics laid the groundwork for FTL technology as we know it.

However, by the second day of Jailbreak, security at the camps had been strengthened to the point of making such an assault suicidal. On the second and third days of Operation Jailbreak, XCOM forces suffered heavy casualties for minimal gain, with entire assault teams being reported as KIA. However, one camp was liberated successfully on the third and final day of Operation Jailbreak. That liberation turned out to be the most important gain of Operation Jailbreak, as within the last liberated camp was one Annette Durand.

Ever since the occupation began, psionic powers were known to humanity. However, until Annette Durand, no human was known to be able to visibly manifest such abilities. Once Annette's abilities were discovered by ADVENT, she was quickly deported to a camp in what were once the Swiss Alps. There, she was soon joined by three other Psionic individuals of a power similar to her own, as well as multiple other, less powerful psionics discovered by ADVENT's new, more intensive screening that was performed under the guise of improved Gene Therapy. These psionics were kept contained until the XCOM force assigned to liberate a known camp in the Swiss Alps found its target. Once the attack began, the human psionics inside the camp rebelled, causing ADVENT to split its attention between the interior and exterior of the camp. While hundreds of the prisoners were machine-gunned to death before the XCOM liberation team could break in, the most powerful psionics in the camp were able to survive long enough to open a path outside to the waiting XCOM troops. Unfortunately, out of the powerful psionics within the camp, only Annette was able to make it out, the other three being killed while holding off ADVENT forces. All in all, twenty human psionic individuals or varying degrees of power were rescued from the camp. These individuals would form the basis of XCOM's psionic corps.

The three parts of Operation Avenger were humanity's opening move of the Second Ethereal War. However, the ADVENT Coalition and its Alien masters were far from idle in the aftermath.

 **March 21st, 2035: ADVENT Retaliation begins.**

After twenty days of defensive action, first against Operation Avenger, then against the many small-scale guerrilla raids that followed, ADVENT forces embarked on an offensive, targeting any and every human settlement they could find outside of the main cities. It is estimated that upwards of one million human civilians are killed during the first week of these purges, while ADVENT losses are minimal.

The first week of ADVENT's retaliatory purges are focused on settlements relatively close to their cities, although in these areas there is relatively little XCOM activity. In a move that nearly costs him his position as commander, but likely won the war, Commander Bradford decides not to send XCOM troops to defend these settlements, deciding not to squander XCOM's strength by stationing permanent garrisons so close to ADVENT's bases of operation. An outright mutiny is barely prevented.

However, while XCOM stood idle during the first week of purges, the second week is completely different. As April began, ADVENT began striking at more distant settlements, and at a much slower rate due to the logistical difficulties in locating these camouflaged villages. At this point, Bradford orders for as many settlements as possible to be saved, resulting in retaliation sites turning into bloodbaths for both sides. Friendly fire was alarmingly common during these raids, as XCOM's equipment was mostly scavenged from ADVENT, with personal body armor, weaponry, and vehicles all being taken from raids on ADVENT's armories and convoys. This led to many cases of confused identity, where XCOM reinforcements were mistaken for an ADVENT retaliation strike and fired upon, while in at least one case, an ADVENT retaliation strike was confused with XCOM reinforcements and welcomed with open arms. The tendency of both ADVENT and XCOM to move by night did not help in this regard.

However, by the May of 2035, the remaining human settlements in the wilderness had been fortified to the point where conventional retaliatory strikes were simply not economical for ADVENT to perform, leading to a marked decrease in retaliation strikes until July 2035.

 **April 18th, 2035: Operation Pierced Veil.**

With ADVENT's retaliatory purges at an all-time high, XCOM command was under significant pressure to mount a counter-offensive. Operation Pierced Veil was that counter-offensive. On April-18th, 2035, XCOM troops first utilized the device now known as a skulljack while raiding an ADVENT supply convoy. The data retrieved in this manner revealed the location of a secret ADVENT facility in the wilderness, where the convoy was headed. Operation Pierced Veil then commenced, with transports being scrambled to strike at the facility. After three hours of combat, the facility was clear, allowing XCOM forces to quickly search the facility, ascertain its purpose, recover samples, and rig it for detonation before hostile reinforcements arrived.

The facility turned out to be a biological research laboratory, designed to fatally process hundreds of humans daily. It is now known that the Ethereals were attempting to isolate optimal aspects of the human genetic code in order to create a perfect Avatar body, but at the time it was believed that XCOM had hit an ADVENT cloning lab, where the puppet government was attempting to transition from genetically modifying conscripts to simply growing them in vats.

Regardless of the facility's purpose, XCOM's priority shifted from assassination of ADVENT's leadership to the destruction of these covert ADVENT black sites. The amount of XCOM activity within the main cities slowly petered off, while raids on convoys and trains became more frequent. Thanks to liberal use of skulljacks during these convoy raids, six additional ADVENT black sites are located and destroyed by the end of April.

 **May 5th, 2035: Battle of Yellowstone.**

The first true large-scale battle of EWII, the Battle of Yellowstone took place in the former U.S. National Park, which now contained one of the largest XCOM settlements in the world. An ADVENT retaliation strike was detected en-route to its location, leading to XCOM forces under the command of former general Peter Van Doorn to be dispatched to defend the human settlement, which had already withstood an earlier retaliation strike in late April. The result was the first large-scale ground engagement in XCOM's history, lasting for three days and involving nearly fifty thousand XCOM personnel against nearly one hundred thousand ADVENT troops and automated units.

The battle was won thanks to clever manipulation of Yellowstone' geological activity, which the civilian residents were using as a source of electricity. With remote-detonated charges and precise airstrikes, XCOM forces were able to trigger the eruptions of several large geysers, as well as create multiple sinkholes and small-scale earthquakes. While these actions alone would have done little more than cause minor casualties and temporary disorganization within the enemy's ranks, the follow-up assault by XCOM airborne troops was devastating, leaving nearly ten thousand dead on ADVENT's side and stopping their advance in its tracks by the end of the first day. Overnight, ADVENT forces quickly regrouped, while XCOM forces retreated to pre-prepared defensive positions, using the opportunity to shore up said fortifications.

On the dawn of the second day, ADVENT lands reinforcements, and begins a series of human wave assaults on the XCOM position, using organic infantry and light mechanized units at first, before proceeding to heavy armor and alien auxiliaries when the first waves did not successfully breach the XCOM line. XCOM forces sustain heavy casualties, and by the end of the day are reduced to pressing civilians as young as twelve into plugging the gaps in their line. The repeated assaults continue overnight and well into the third day, at which point XCOM reinforcements under the command of Caroline Stern arrive, landing behind ADVENT's own forces in order to catch them in a pincer maneuver. When combined with a counter-offensive from the entrenched XCOM forces already present, this is enough to break the back of ADVENT's forces, which fight to the last man, having never been given an order to retreat. Mop-up operations continue for nearly two weeks after the battle's end before the area is declared clear once more.

While XCOM's forces suffered extremely heavy casualties during the battle, with nearly one third of all involved forces being declared either KIA or MIA, while almost every survivor of the battle was wounded in some fashion, the victory served to bolster resistance morale around the globe, simultaneously legitimizing XCOM as the new official face of humanity. Recruitment from resistance settlements nearly doubles once the victory is announced, while smaller, independent resistance movements start to come out of hiding, both to attack ADVENT on their own and to join up with XCOM. Finally, the lack of an ADVENT retreat meant that almost all of their gear could be scavenged in some way. Destroyed Sectopods are disassembled, their built-in weapons converted into field artillery, ADVENT mechs are stripped for parts to create body armor, while their weapons are converted into independent mortars and heavy machine guns. Finally, most of ADVENT's aircraft involved are captured on the ground, while those shot down are scavenged for parts.

Almost overnight, XCOM went from an oversized resistance movement to a serious threat to ADVENT's hold on Earth thanks to its victory at Yellowstone.

 **May 22nd, 2035: Alien Code is cracked.**

Using data recovered from ADVENT Blacksite raids, a team led by Dr. Richard Tygan announces that it has managed to crack the code used by the ADVENT coalition, and through extension, the Ethereal hive mind. Using experimental psionic transmitters, the ADVENT transmissions are streamed through the mind of a psionic individual, allowing the code to be ascertained and cracked. This discovery means that multiple weak psionic individuals, previously employed in scientific studies, are reassigned to cryptography.

The cracking of the ADVENT code leads to the discovery of a previously-unknown Blacksite designated as a 'Forge' facility. Operation Broken Anvil is launched the next day, and the Forge facility is raided and destroyed. Among the alien artifacts recovered is an unusual human body inside an enviro-suit. It is now known that the body was one of the early Ethereal Avatar prototypes, and its theft was a major setback to the Avatar project. However, at the time, the Forge facility is believed to be a fully functional ADVENT cloning facility.

 **June 2nd, 2035: Ethereal reinforcements arrive on Earth.**

After the destruction of the Forge facility, Ethereal forces off-planet mobilized, and on June 2nd, 2035, nearly one million alien troops are landed on Earth, accompanied by no less than four Ethereals. ADVENT cities discard their veneer of tranquility and are placed under strict martial law. Skulljacking is countered by the implementation of the Codex defense network, all but completely shutting XCOM out of the ADVENT network. All remaining blacksites are heavily fortified, with garrisons of thousands of alien troops joining the ADVENT forces in guarding these facilities. Subsequent blacksite raids by XCOM are repulsed with heavy casualties. However, the aliens' prioritize completion of the Avatar project over crushing all human rebellion, and rather than mount an immediate offensive, alien forces remain firmly in place at their respective black sites, while ADVENT continues its attempts at putting down human rebellion with relatively little aid from their alien masters.

 **June 29th, 2035: Operation Closed Gate.**

Analysis of Codex remains reveals the location of another previously-unknown blacksite. At the time, this is believed to be the Codex defense network's central node, and an immediate assault is ordered under the name of Operation Closed Gate. Just past the stroke of midnight, on June 29th, human airstrikes take Alien forces by surprise, allowing human airborne forces to land and assault the facility proper. However, almost as soon as the initial landing zones were secure, human forces came under furious, massed assault by Chryssalids, the insectoid race making a devastating combat debut against the unprepared human forces. Unknown to XCOM commanders, the initial airstrikes had destroyed the Chryssalids' psionic control nexus, causing the monstrous creatures to start rampaging, attacking both humans and aliens alike. The Chryssalid threat is eventually cleared by constant, repeated firebombing of the alien site, which leaves very little of the site recoverable by surviving human forces. Fortunately, the human defenders are able to recover a psionically-driven portal device, which, while damaged, still operational. However, the Codex defense network remains in place, and the ADVENT network remains closed off to humanity.

 **July 1st, 2035: Chryssalid Raids begin.**

In a direct response to Operation Closed Gate, Alien forces, in conjunction with ADVENT, go on the offensive. With their advanced aircraft giving them complete air superiority, Ethereal forces make a series of practically unopposed air raids against human settlements, aerially dropping thousands of Chryssalid eggs into every known concentration of human life outside of the main cities. Yellowstone is one of the first settlements hit in such a manner, and is completely wiped out. Areas targeted by these raids become infested with Chryssalids, permanently denying them to XCOM's forces.

 **July 5th, 2035: Battle of the Amazon.**

In response to the devastating Chryssalid raids, XCOM forces mount a full-scale offensive against a blacksite in the Amazon rain forest. Two forces converge on the alien facility, and on July 5th, the offensive begins. Two days of combat pass as human infantry slowly advance on the black site, supported by mobile Anti-Air divisions and whatever aircraft are available. The facility itself is subjected to three hours of bombardment by a combination of light, mobile mortars and what little heavy artillery could be hauled into position through the forest. Then, an all-out infantry assault begins. Many of the troops involved are on their last reserves of ammunition, and the large machetes used to clear away the forest find a new use in close combat. Near the end of the battle, a Codex is stabbed by a skulljack, giving human cryptographers temporary access to both the ADVENT network and the Ethereal hive mind. The intrusion leads to an incomplete Avatar body being teleported into the combat zone under the control of an Ethereal. The incomplete Avatar is eventually brought down after killing nearly two hundred XCOM soldiers, and the psionic backlash of the Ethereal's death throws alien forces into disarray. The disorganized defenders of the Amazon facility are smoothly eradicated, and the blacksite is captured relatively intact.

 **July 18th, 2035: Death of William Thorne.**

The death of an Ethereal in the Battle of the Amazon led to a significant acceleration of the Avatar project's timetable, or more specifically, the immediate liquidation of all non-essential human populace in order to jump-start Avatar production. William Thorne discovered this information, and immediately reported it to XCOM command. However, while he was collecting data on this turn of events, he was revealed as a spy, and ADVENT soldiers arrived on the scene halfway through the transmission. Thorne was killed after a brief exchange of fire with said soldiers, but the data he sent out was critical to the prevention of the Ethereal plot.

 **July 20th, 2035: Operation Kind Censor.**

In the wake of Thorne's death, XCOM Commander Bradford immediately prepared to execute the operation to save the human race. In the two days between Thorne's death and the start of Operation Kind Censor, elite XCOM agents were smuggled into New Geneva, the ADVENT world headquarters. Then, on July 20th, Operation Kind Censor commenced, with the XCOM strike team infiltrating the ADVENT primary network tower. Quickly shooting their way through the unprepared ADVENT opposition, the XCOM forces were able to hijack the entire network partway through the Alien Speaker's address to the public, turning cheering crowds around the world into lynch mobs. The hijacking of the ADVENT network also wreaked havoc on ADVENT troop movements, allowing for multiple simultaneous large-scale offensives by XCOM forces to take place. Hundreds of cities around the globe were captured by XCOM forces, while Alien defenders suddenly found themselves severely outnumbered, the network hack having rendered their ADVENT servants all but useless unless under direct psionic control.

 **July 21st, 2035: Operation Vengeful Vandal.**

While the battle for Earth raged anew, a second XCOM strike team under the leadership of Annette Durand prepared to ensure that all the aliens' efforts in taking Earth were in vain. By psionically hijacking the body of the Ethereal Avatar that had been killed in the Amazon, Annette was able to interface with the portal captured in Operation Closed Gate, giving XCOM access to the Avatar project's primary research hub. Fifty-three of XCOM's finest soldiers, Annette included, are able to head through the gate before it is shut down. Cut off completely from XCOM's high command, the XCOM strike team proceeded with its mission. Recovered gun-camera footage shows that they ended up fighting a six hour long battle against Ethereal forces in a complex located on the Pacific Ocean floor. Thanks to judicious use of psionic powers such as mind control by Annette, the XCOM strike team suffered no casualties for the majority of the fight. However, near the end of the fight, the desperate Ethereals within the complex activated the three completed Avatar bodies within the facility, and engaged XCOM's forces directly. While all the Avatars were eventually killed, only six XCOM soldiers were able to make it out of the complex, with Annette using a freshly killed Avatar to interface with a second alien portal, creating an exit for herself and her team moments before the complex self-destructed.

The end result of Operation Vengeful Vandal was devastating to the alien command structure. Doubtlessly in a panic over having three Ethereals killed in such rapid succession, whatever off-world commander that assumed command of alien forces on Earth ordered a full retreat, with alien forces abducting what few humans they could before fleeing the system, leaving the tattered remnants of ADVENT to fend for themselves. The last ADVENT bastion, Moscow, would fall within three days of the alien retreat.

 **August 7th, 2035: Second Ethereal War ends. XCOM becomes the government of a unified Humanity. Reconstruction begins.**

The last mop-up operations of ADVENT forces are concluded on August 7th, and the was is declared to be over on the same day to jubilant crowds around the world. Although large areas of Earth remained infested with Chryssalids, the alien forces had retreated, and the ADVENT coalition was destroyed. The XCOM high command, now in control of the entire planet, appoints itself as the new world government to thunderous applause around the globe. Immediately afterward, the government begins a mass purge of all collaborators, having learned of the ExAlt modifications from captured ADVENT data. Nearly two million people are killed during the subsequent purges, but the ExAlt gene is successfully eliminated from the human population.

 **December 8th, 2035: Construction of subterranean arcologies is begun.**

Grim projections of a third Ethereal war lead to High Commander Bradford ordering the construction of multiple subterranean arcologies to house Earth's surviving population. Built with an orbital bombardment of Earth's population centers in mind, these arcologies are heavily armored, protected by thick layers of alien alloy, the formula of which having been determined late during the war by Dr. Lily Shen. Beneath these shields, the arcologies were heavily fortified, with tight chokepoints, pre-mined streets, and machine gun emplacements strategically positioned to protect against an infantry assault.

 **May 9th, 2038: The XCS _Amazon,_ Humanity's first armed starship, is launched. XCOM Starfleet is established.**

Although the Ethereal forces had retreated from Earth, they still remained out there, and XCOM's High Command knew that they had to take the fight to the enemy. However, a combination of Elerium shortages and a complete lack of experience in space combat hampered the creation of XCOM's Starfleet, and only in 2038 did the XCS _Amazon_ launch. An inability to manufacture Elerium on Earth, however, meant that humanity could only afford a small spacefaring navy. As a result, the XCOM starfleet soon shifted its focus from offensive warships to defensive orbital platforms powered by early fusion reactors and armed with a combination of railguns and laser cannons. Likewise, the XCOM forces on the ground were equipped with body armor produced in ADVENT's old factories, and were equipped with a mix of laser and gauss weaponry.

 **January 15th, 2040: New Chicago Arcology is completed.**

The race to construct the first arcology is won by New Chicago, with the megacity's population being completely relocated underground by the end of the month. Over the course of January 2040, ten other arcologies are finished, with over two hundred being completed by the end of the year. By the January of 2041, three quarters of the human population is living underground.

 **September 8th, 2040: Mars is colonized.**

Against the recommendations of his chief of Navy, High Commander Bradford orders the colonization of Mars, and the first mining colony is established on September 8th, 2040. The first resource shipment is transported back to Earth onboard the XCS _Amazon_ three months later.

 **March 2nd, 2041: Third Ethereal War (EWIII) Begins.**

On March 2nd, 2041, the Third Ethereal War begins, as three thousand Ethereal warships, ranging from frigates to a huge Temple Ship, exit FTL in Mars orbit. The undefended human colony is devastated by orbital bombardment, with any survivors being methodically wiped out by ground assault. Two days later, the Ethereal force is engaged by human warships while en-route to Earth. Two Ethereal frigates are destroyed, and three alien transports are damaged. All human warships involved are wiped out with no survivors. The next day, Ethereal forces arrive in Earth orbit, and are engaged by both orbital defense platforms and ground-based mass drivers. However, while some casualties are inflicted, the orbital defenses are overwhelmed, and Earth is once again surrounded. By the dawn of March the 6th, all human anti-orbit installations on the ground are destroyed by concentrated orbital bombardment, while further bombardment is directed at all known above-ground human installations. By March 7th, all human life on the planet's surface has been eradicated.

 **March 7th, 2041: Ethereal Landings commence.**

With all visible signs of human resistance eliminated, one thousand Ethereal transports descend to the planet's surface, escorted by frigates and light cruisers, while swarms of fighters are dispatched from carriers in orbit to ferret out any human resistance. The first Ethereal transport lands at approximately 12:00 hours, Coordinated Universal Time. At 12:01 Hours UCT, human forces open fire on landing Ethereal forces. Fighters are catapulted into the air from concealed underground silos, artillery is raised from their shelters by high-speed elevators, and tens of millions of infantrymen storm out of underground barracks, fully armed and with the enemy in sight. Furious air combat erupts between Ethereal and Human fighters, while alien frigates duel with ground-based batteries. All the while, at fifty separate locations worldwide, the Ethereals attempt to establish beachheads while under furious fire from Earth's defenders. Twenty two of these beachheads are overwhelmed, and the transports retreat with empty holds, their troops massacred, while their escorts suppressed the victorious humans. Three more transport groups land in Chryssalid-infested territory. The insectoid monstrosities, once under Ethereal control, had gone native while on Earth, and attacked their former masters as if they were any other interloping species. One such landing site on the coast of Newfoundland is overwhelmed by Chryssalids, while at Yellowstone and Kamchatka the Chryssalids are slowly cleared away by Ethereal landing parties.

In total, twenty seven Ethereal beachheads are established on Earth on March 7th, but the attackers pay in blood for every step they take, and human forces remain firmly entrenched. The situation on Earth devolves into static trench warfare, as neither side is capable of overwhelming the other.

 **March 12th, 2041: Universal Conscription is implemented.**

The initial Ethereal landings inflicted approximately twelve million casualties on the human defenders, with many millions more killed by the prior orbital bombardment. Protests are silenced, sometimes lethally, by XCOM Enforcers, and millions of human citizens are drafted into XCOM training camps.

 **April 8th, 2041: Ethereal reinforcements arrive.**

Unable to break the month-long stalemate, the Ethereal commanders bring in additional reinforcements from off-world. Once again, human defenders do their utmost to stop these reinforcements from accomplishing their objectives, but breakthroughs are forced at sixteen of the twenty-seven beachheads, and the Ethereal forces rapidly shift forces from one beachhead to another, allowing six landing sites to be overwhelmed by human forces in exchange for increased gains at others. By April 21st, Ethereal forces stand at the gates of the New Volgograd and New Chicago arcologies.

Ethereal reinforcements would continue to arrive regularly until the end of the war.

 **April 21st, 2041: Hara-Kiri Protocol is devised.**

With Ethereal forces pushing ever closer to the arcologies at New Volgograd and New Chicago, High Commander Bradford is faced with a difficult decision. In the event of an arcology's capture, the Ethereals would then be able to abduct the subterranean city's population, which could then be potentially used to complete the Avatar project. If the Avatar project were to succeed, all of the sacrifices of the previous wars would be in vain, and the Ethereals would be able to deploy Avatar super-soldiers en-masse.

Therefore, on April 21st, 2041, Bradford orders the placement of two hundred megaton thermonuclear bombs within each arcology, to be detonated in the event of the subterranean city's capture. This nuclear last resort is appropriately named the Hara-Kiri protocol. Commanders worldwide are informed of the protocol, and its existence is used to encourage arcology defenders to fight back harder against the enemy.

 **May 11th, 2041: Battle of New Volgograd begins.**

At approximately 10:47 UCT, on May 11th, 2041, Ethereal forces reach the outer fortifications of the New Volgograd Arcology. Despite being reinforced multiple times, Ethereal forces barely outnumber the defenders, and their assault breaks apart against human defenses. Ground-based artillery is able to down two of the three attacking Ethereal frigates, one of which makes a relatively soft landing directly on top of the subterranean city. Human commandos quickly clear out the vessel, and with assistance from local engineers, are able to turn the vessel's remaining guns upon the enemy. New Volgograd's defenses would not be breached nearly fourteen months.

 **May 19th, 2041: Battle of New Chicago begins.**

Similarly to New Volgograd, the New Chicago Arcology inflicts heavy casualties upon Ethereal attackers. Fighting back from heavily defensible, orbital bombardment resistant positions, the New Chicago guards employ everything from land mines to tactical nuclear warheads to stall the enemy advance.

New Volgograd and New Chicago were but the first of the human arcologies to be besieged by the Ethereals, although each and every one fought back with similar desperation. Casualties were quickly replaced with civilian draftees, and every arcology siege soon became a bloody stalemate.

However, the ongoing war was taking its toll on Earth's environment. The constant use of nuclear weapons by humanity, coupled with the debris thrown up by Ethereal orbital bombardment, caused the planet's temperature to drop by nearly five degrees Celsius by the end of May 2041, while radioactive fallout quickly contaminated the vast majority of the world's groundwater. Many species of wildlife, already in danger thanks to Chryssalid infestations, succumbed to radiation and went extinct. However, EWIII raged on, uncaring as to the plight of the environment.

 **June 19th, 2041: Raid on New Orleans Arcology. Aquatoids enter the war.**

The rising radioactivity of the Earth had not gone unnoticed by any party. Human body armor now incorporated NCB seals, and geiger counters was a common sight within the arcologies. The Ethereals, meanwhile, had increased the amount of mechanized units in their forces, to compensate for the slow but steady death toll that radioactivity was exacting on their organic forces. However, there was a third party present that neither side knew of. Within their underwater city beneath the Gulf of Mexico, the Aquatoid race prepared for war. The ancient ancestors of what the Ethereals turned into Sectoids, the Aquatoids almost immediately noticed the war raging on the Earth above them, and immediately took action in accordance with their nature as an imperialistic alien race.

We now know that the Aquatoids are the remnants of the race that the Ethereals turned into the Sectoids, having fled their world in a huge generation ship, the T'leth, sixty-five million years ago. It was the T'leth crashing on Earth that was responsible for the extinction of the dinosaurs. However, aside from brief exploratory forays into the world, the Aquatoids were content to allow their race to remain in cryosleep for fear of attracting Ethereal attention. Now that the Ethereals were on Earth, the Aquatoids prepared to take the fight to their ancient enslavers.

However, the Aquatoids were not prepared for the presence of humanity on Earth, and in their arrogance decided that we too were both a threat and an enemy. Their first action as a newly awakened race was to launch an amphibious raid on the New Orleans Arcology. While the New Orleans Arcology had not yet been besieged by Ethereals, it now came under attack by a different foe. Of course, the coastal archology was well equipped to defend against an amphibious assault, and the Aquatoids were soon driven off, and the attack was written off a new Ethereal tactic. It was only after Aquatoids were observed engaging Ethereal forces during the Siege of New Shanghai two weeks later that XCOM High Command realized that a third party had entered the war.

 **October 1st, 2041: New Rome Arcology employs the Hara-Kiri Protocol.**

The New Rome Arcology was finally breached in late August of 2041, with heavy casualties being suffered on both sides. It was a Aquatoid raid that broke the arcology's defenses, diverting essential human forces to defend against an attack by sea. This allows Ethereal forces to launch the largest offensive since the Battle of New Volgograd, and the beleaguered human defenders are overwhelmed. The entirety of September is spent fighting the Ethereal and Aquatoid forces in desperate, room-by-room combat, with the arcology slowly being taken level by level. Every able bodied human being was given a weapon and ordered to fight by the last week of September, and when that proved to be insufficient, the Hara-Kiri protocol was reluctantly activated on October 1st.

The two hundred megaton detonation was the largest nuclear blast on Earth to date. Large waves produced by the blast devastated Aquatoid coastal bases on Sardinia and Corsica, and the losses inflicted caused all Aquatoid operations in the Mediterranean to grind to a halt. The blast itself was felt across the globe, and the mushroom cloud extended well past the atmosphere. In addition, the blast propelled nearly one hundred thousand tons of alien alloy plate, which originally composed the arcology's orbital bombardment shield, into space, catching the Ethereal space vessels over New Rome unawares. Like a crude shotgun, the verneshot from the nuclear blast destroyed six Ethereal frigates, two cruisers, and severely damaged the battleship they were escorting. Realizing this, a force of human Aerospace fighters, theoretically capable of combat both in and out of the atmosphere, were launched from silos in northern Italy, using the mushroom cloud as cover. Armed with laser cannons and carrying two ten kiloton oxygen-shell nuclear warheads, weapons designed specifically for vacuum use, the fighters launched into the mushroom cloud approximately two hours after the initial New Rome detonation. Approaching their target undetected, the fighters were able to quickly destroy the Ethereal battleship, killing the Ethereal onboard, and return home without even being fired upon. The New Rome crater is now a memorial site for all civilians who died during the first three Ethereal Wars.

In the aftermath of the New Rome blast, Ethereal forces retreated from near orbit, where they were holding position in order to provide close orbital support. While this move placed them safely out of range of any future nuclear blasts, this also prevented the Ethereals from being able to provide immediate orbital support. This in turn led to besieged arcologies mounting offensives, and by the end of October, the New Berlin, New London, New Paris, New Geneva, New Hamburg, and New Warsaw arcologies were able to break their respective sieges, and by the end of 2041 the Ethereals had been pushed out of Europe.

 **January 1st, 2042: XCOM Pacific Offensive begins.**

With the Pacific Islands largely deserted after the First and Second Ethereal Wars, it came as no surprise to XCOM High Command that the Aquatoids had arrived in the humans' absence. Unwilling to risk assault by Aquatoid submarine, the XCOM Pacific Campaign is carried out almost exclusively by aircraft. One by one, Aquatoid forces are pushed off their newfound island bases, with the campaign being completed by the end of 2042. However, it becomes increasingly clear to XCOM that the Aquatoids cannot be defeated without destroying their underwater bases of operations. Therefore, even as XCOM footsoldiers were clearing out isolated island bases, the XCOM Aquanaut corps were deployed to the seafloor, using waterproofed gauss guns and special aqua-plastic armored suits to combat opponents equipped with lethal sonic weaponry and their own brand of psionic powers. On November 11th, 2042, Aquanaut forces discover an Aquatoid base on the Pacific sea floor. Torpedo strikes destroy some of the complex, but the vast majority of the base is built into the seabed, requiring five thousand infantry to go in and clear it out by hand. The Battle of the Challenger Fracture quickly became a bloodbath, but the three hundred surviving Aquanauts are able to capture the base and its technology relatively intact, allowing XCOM scientists to analyze and duplicate both the Aquatoids' technology, and Zrbite, the Trans-Newtonian element behind this technology.

Mass production of Zribite begins immediately, and while Zrbite lacks the gravitational manipulation and antimatter generation properties of Elerium, it still allows for humanity to start employing sonic weapons underwater, and exponentially more powerful laser weaponry above it.

 **July 23rd, 2042: Siege of New Volgograd ends.**

The retreat of the Ethereals from close orbit allowed the XCOM forces trapped in the arcologies to move around much more freely, leading to the arcology sieges being broken one by one. With the Aquatoids in full retreat in the Pacific and the Ethereal forces being pushed out of Europe, the arcologies of western Asia are asked to apply pressure on the retreating Ethereal forces' eastern flank. One by one, the sieges of Russian arcologies are broken, with New Volgograd being the last to do so. After fourteen months of hard siege and constant warfare, the Ethereal forces around New Volgograd are reinforced, and mount a massive, desperate push at the arcology gates. Both sides suffer casualties in excess of fifty percent, but the New Volgograd gates are finally breached. However, unlike in New Rome, the Ethereal attackers are unable to take even the first level of the breached fortress city, and are driven out of the city after nearly three days of combat, with the New Volgograd Guard in hot pursuit.

With forces converging on them from the East and West, the Ethereal pocket in Europe is forced to retreat to the Vistula river. There, with the Volgograd, Moscow, Kiev and Novgorod Guard armies on one side, and the Warsaw, Berlin, Hamburg, Paris, Helsinki, and Prague Guard armies on the other, the Ethereal forces are hemmed in with no further avenues of withdrawal. The subsequent Battle of the Vistula results in the annihilation of the remaining Ethereal forces in Europe. Europe becomes the first continent to be declared clear of Ethereal forces.

 **October 22nd, 2042: Battle of the Mississippi.**

Following the example of the Europeans, the arcologies of North America push the alien invaders to the Mississippi river, destroying them utterly over the course of five days. On the other end of the continent, the Ethereal forces are pushed to the edge of the Pacific, where they are caught between Aquatoid and Human armies and are once again eliminated. Aquatoid forces suffer heavy casualties during the battle, and retreat rather than engage the human forces. Meanwhile, to the north, the New Ottawa Guard spearheads the Canadian Offensive, driving the Ethereal forces to the shores of Lake Ontario, where they are summarily destroyed, with the New York and New Cleveland guards provide fire support from across the lake. This, when combined with the landing forces in Mexico being driven all the way down to former Venezuela, leads to North America becoming the second continent declared free of Ethereal influence.

 **December 19th, 2042: T'leth is discovered.**

While pursuing an Aquatoid raiding force within the Gulf of Mexico, an Aquatoid team stumbles upon what at first appears to be a small underwater outpost. The team attempts entry, but soon discovers that they have inadvertently stumbled into an enormous underwater city. Quickly retreating, the team alerts XCOM high command of their discovery.

 **December 21st, 2042: T'leth launches. Battle of the Gulf of Mexico commences.**

Believing their home base compromised, the Aquatoids launch the T'leth, intending to use it to destroy all opposition on Earth, whether to colonize it or to destroy pursuit is unknown. Desperate for a solution, the New Orleans Arcology orders a general evacuation, intending to activate the Hara-Kiri protocol with the purpose of using the verneshot effect to take out the enormous alien vessel once it surfaced. However, before the T'leth could breach the ocean surface, one thousand XCOM Aquanauts arrive on the scene and board the vessel. XCOM aerial forces are launched from all over North America to intercept the gargantuan generation ship, while Ethereal aircraft launch from South America to do the same. When combined with Aquatoid multimodal submarines launching from the T'leth itself, a three-way air duel erupts over the Gulf, while onboard the T'leth proper, a small army of Aquanauts work to destroy the vessel before it can breach the surface. They are unsuccessful, and the T'leth's breaching causes tsunamis to hammer the Gulf coastline.

Ultimately, the T'leth is downed not by human bravery, but by Ethereal capital ships arriving from space. The ancient weaponry onboard the T'leth, while it may have been a match for the Ethereal weapons of sixty-five million years ago, was no match for what the Ethereals had in 2042, and the T'leth was soon shot down. However, in one final, spiteful move, the Aquatoid leadership detonates the T'leth's enormous Zrbite core. The resulting blast dwarfed the earlier New Rome detonation in magnitude, and caused a second wave of tsunamis to pound the Gulf's shores. The blast itself was enough to vaporize any human and Etheral forces present over or near the Gulf, and the New Orleans arcology, already devastated by the tsunamis, is completely destroyed by the blast wave. The Caribbean islands, along with nearly half of Florida, are completely leveled. The fallout from the blast still remains in the now-renamed Bay of Mexico, rendering it completely inhospitable to all life to this day.

However, the T'leth's self-destruction is the last act of the Aquatoids and their many vat-grown slave races. With the third party now eliminated, both Ethereals and Humans are now able to focus their full respective strengths against each other.

However, the Ethereals remain hesitant to bring their forces into close orbit around Earth, having lost one of their number to the T'leth's detonation. This inaction on the part of their orbital forces means that, while Ethereal troops can still land without fear of anti-orbital weapons, their only orbital support comes from Ethereal frigates, which had been proven vulnerable to ground battery fire and fighter attacks.

This means that the Ethereal orbital superiority over Earth is rendered moot, giving humanity a chance to fight the aliens on equal footing.

 **February 8th, 2043: Operation Strong Arm is conceived.**

While the Ethereal navy remains in high orbit, XCOM High Command knows that as long as said fleet remains around the Earth, the tide of war could change at any moment. To remedy this issue, Operation Strong Arm is conceived. Over the next two months, the XCS _Assassin_ is built and commissioned with a singular purpose. With speed and stealth as its only defenses, the _Assassin_ is little more than a glorified troop transport. Its sole mission is to sneak past a distracted Ethereal defensive screen using its cloaking device, and board the Temple Ship in high Earth orbit. Once the boarding is complete, XCOM special forces would storm the hostile ship with the intent of killing all Ethereals onboard. The end of EWII proved that the death of an Ethereal is all but guaranteed to cause devastating psionic backlash through their local network, which would in turn allow for XCOM forces on Earth to fully repulse the aliens on the planet.

 **June 10th, 2043: Operation Strong Arm commences.**

At exactly 13:00 hours UTC, XCOM forces initiate Operation Strong Arm with the launch of thirty 200-megaton fusion bombs into space. While these warheads are too high-yield to equip with Oxygen-shell technology, reducing their out-of-atmosphere effectiveness significantly, the EMP effects of the blasts are enough to temporarily bedazzle the Ethereals' conventional sensors. As these warheads are detonating, six hundred F-49 Aerospace fighters, which had been bloodied in the battle of New Rome, are launched from their underground silos. The thick, nuclear-winter inducing clouds over Earth hide the launches, allowing the aircraft to reach orbit undetected. These fighters are to serve as a diversion. The pilots are all volunteers, who all know of the mission's suicidal nature. Their purpose is to engage the Ethereal capital ships, and to draw them away from the Temple Ship.

Meanwhile, as the fighters are ascending to space, the _XCS Assassin_ finishes its launch countdown and prepares to embark on its own mission. It is to stealthily approach the Ethereal temple ship, before deploying its boarding parties. Once again, all on-board personnel are volunteers, their mission suicidal.

At 13:43 UTC, the Human fighters make their presence known, splitting into two groups. One group engages the Ethereal frigate picket line, while the second attempts to sneak around to engage the Temple Ship. All oxygen-shell nuclear warheads are spent within the battle's opening minutes, with one such missile detonating near the Temple Ship itself. The diversion is a success, and the retreating Human fighters are pursued by the vast majority of the Ethereal fleet.

Meanwhile, the XCS _Assassin_ successfully bypasses the outer picket line, its stealth system working well against the small Ethereal frigates. However, in spite of the experimental Mind Shield technology used by the transport's crew, the vessel is detected by psionic sensing devices onboard the Temple Ship. Under heavy fire, the _Assassin's_ captain orders the troops onboard to abandon ship, before gunning the engines well past their intended limit and ramming the Temple Ship. The XCOM Special Operatives, now stranded in space, use cold-gas thrusters to spacewalk into the breach left by the _Assassin's_ ramming strike. The two hundred volunteers meet little opposition at first, but their location is soon pinpointed and they are engaged. What happens next is unknown to XCOM forces, as the troops lose contact with Ground Control, but at approximately 15:22 UTC, the Temple Ship explodes. Immediately afterward, the Ethereal fleet retreats from Earth orbit to Mars, while their forces on the ground mill about, their chain of command disrupted. Humanity's own armies waste no time in taking advantage of this, and by the end of the year, Ethereal forces on Earth have once again been annihilated.

However, while the battle for Earth is over, Ethereal forces remain in orbit over Mars, out of humanity's reach. Even before the victory celebrations are over, High Commander Bradford orders the construction of the XCOM New Navy. With the Ethereals busy consolidating their position on Mars, Humanity is afforded a moment's respite from war, and the preparations for the continuation of war are immediately begun.

 **November 30th, 2044: Ares Offensive begins.**

After more than a year of reconstruction and preparation, the XCOM New Navy, composed primarily of cheap, lightly armored, unarmed transport ships, is ready. On November 30th, a fleet of five thousand human ships, four thousand of which are transports, leave Earth to take part in Humanity's first interplanetary offensive. Four million military personnel sail with the fleet, three and a half million of which are members of the ground forces. It is an all-out assault, with a singular objective: Kill the Ethereals.

After three days in flight, the XCOM fleet arrives in Mars orbit, and the battle begins almost immediately. Only three hundred of the involved human vessels are capital ships, with the vast majority of the human fleet being either fighter carriers or troop transports. Facing nearly one thousand Ethereal capital ships, the Human combat vessels are doomed from the start. However, they accomplish their job, and allow two thirds of the involved troop transports to land directly on top of the Ethereal base of operations on Mars. As luck would have it, the presence of an Ethereal on the planet's surface forces the Ethereal forces in orbit to hold off on orbital bombardment, although they do not hesitate to land what troops they have onboard to reinforce the beleaguered facility's defenders.

The final, climatic battle of the Third Ethereal War took all of five days once the troops were landing. Unwilling to risk the life of the Ethereal on the planet, the Ethereal fleet refrains from killing the remaining Human infantry, allowing human forces to slowly but surely secure the facility. On the final day, however, Ethereal forces suddenly and unexpectedly retreat from battle. Unusually, the Ethereal on the ground is left behind, and it is quickly killed, along with the rest of the alien forces on Mars.

Ultimately, the Ethereals retreat, not just from Mars, but from the entire Sol system. It is later discovered that they have established a blockade two light years away from Sol, but for the moment, the victory on Mars is hailed as the end of the Third Ethereal War. Privately, though, XCOM's high command is concerned. The cause behind the Ethereals' sudden retreat is unknown, and remains unknown to this day. However, regardless of the circumstances, the Third Ethereal War is declared over, and the survivors of the Ares Offensive are welcomed back as heroes, and Humanity makes the most of the subsequent peace.

The ensuing reconstruction is significantly aided by the captured Ethereal base on Mars. Among the many examples of Ethereal technology recovered from the base is the required instruments for the production of Elerium, which finally ends the crippling shortage of the vital substance that had existed since the Second Ethereal War.

Tragically, two days after the victorious troops return to Earth, General Peter van Doorn, who commanded the ground forces during the Ares Offensive, dies of radiation poisoning. High Commander Bradford would suffer the same fate five years later, while inspecting the progress of initial efforts at environmental reclamation.

 **January 18th, 2050: XCOM Navy rebuilt.**

On January 18th, 2050, the _XCS Sarah Sullivan_ is launched, becoming the one thousandth capital ship in the newly rebuilt XCOM navy. This ship is far from the last ship built at the newly-constructed Ares Shipyards over Mars, but it is the first human vessel equipped with an FTL drive. However, the drive proves useless aside from short-distance in-system jumps, and the installation of such devices is shelved in favor of the Elerium Rail network. The Elerium Rail network is a network of small-scale Gravitational Sling stations designed to propel ships between planets at FTL speeds. By 2060, the rail network extends out to Saturn, with its end terminus being over a newly-colonized Titan.

Meanwhile, the universal conscription policies of EWIII have not been repealed, while reproduction laws are passed into being alongside the release of new medical technologies. Human population explodes over the following years, with the excess population being shipped to the various Solar colonies. The environment on Earth is slowly but surely cleaned, with above-ground settlements sprouting up once more in safe zones, although many families, remembering the war, choose to stay in the Arcologies.

The reconstruction of Humanity would continue until the mid 2080s.

 **March 29th, 2084: Micronoid War begins.**

Often referred to as the Training War, the Micronoid War begins nearly forty years after the end of the EWIII. On March 29th, multiple extradimensional gateways open over Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Pluto, with the Micronoid invasion force pouring through them. The organic Micronoid ships have a huge numerical advantage over the Human navy, and their disruptor shields give them an incredible durability advantage over the unshielded Human warships. However, these ships are armed almost exclusively with short-range Disruptor cannons, which gives Humanity an immense advantage in terms of standoff distance in naval combat. Tactics are hurriedly adapted, and the Micronoid assaults on Jupiter and Saturn are quickly repelled, with minefields deployed at the portal entrances, which are soon closed from the other end. However, while the Jovian and Saturnian portals are quickly neutralized, the fleet around Pluto is able to enter Human space without any major resistance, while the Martian portal opens directly within the planet's atmosphere, over the Martian Planetary Capital of Mega-Primus. Messy street-to-street fighting erupts as the colony's residents grab weapons and join the planetary garrison in defending the planet.

 **April 3rd, 2084: Second Battle of Saturn.**

The Micronoid fleet that exited the Plutonian portal arrives at Saturn, intent on invading the Human colony of Titan. However, Human forces are prepared, and the battle between the two forces, while drawn out, is one-sided, with the vast majority of the Micronoid forces never reaching Titan's orbit. The few that do are quickly neutralized, and the short range of Micronoid weapons means that Human casualties are low.

Meanwhile, the situation in Mars orbit has similarly stabilized, with any captured sections of Mega Primus being bombarded from orbit, denying them to the enemy and allowing XCOM forces to quickly retake the craters. Unable to gain anything on land or in orbit, the Micronoid forces retreat from Mars by April 5th. Human losses are minor, both on land and in space, and the aliens leave behind plentiful examples of their technology, including Disruptor shields and various forms of weaponry.

However, while the Micronoids never invade Earth, a small-scale rebellion begins by so-called 'Freedom Fighters' within the New Harare Arcology. Local XCOM Peacekeepers are quickly able to put down the rebellion with the aid of thousands of loyal citizens, suffering minimal losses. However, autopsies of the rebel corpses reveal them to be a cult of ExAlts that had either managed to escape the Purges of 2035, or were planted by Ethereal forces during EWIII. This discovery kicks off a new wave of purges, with new genetic screening technology allowing for easy detection of surviving ExAlts. Just over ten thousand ExAlts and other seditious individuals are executed during the second purge. In the wake of the purge, the two of the three Secret Police branches are formed, with the Anti-Sedition Police and Ordermen formed to prevent further ExAlt mutinies, eliminate disloyal and seditious activity, and prevent internal strife within the XCOM Administration's ranks.

 **April 9th, 2084: Asteroid Belt Offensive.**

With their foothold over Pluto tentative at best, and their forces removed from all other initial assault locations, the Micronoids attempt a delaying action by opening several portals within the Asteroid Belt, landing troops on the many armed mining colonies therein. The Jovian and Martian fleets move to protect the human installations, and they succeed in repelling the majority of the Micronoid fleet, but Micronoid forces would remain entrenched on multiple asteroids until early 2085, long after the rest of their forces have been driven from the system. By the time the last alien holdouts are blasted from the surface of 6537 Adamovich, these mop-up operations have been reduced to simple weapon tests, with the Adamovich Engagement being used to test Toxin C-based space-station clearing bombs. However, while the Micronoid war was infinitesimally small in scope when compared to the Ethereal Wars, the experience and technology gained from the conflict would serve Humanity well in the Fourth Ethereal War.

 **April 21st, 2084: Battle of Pluto. Discovery of Charon Relay.**

While the Jovian and Martian fleets were busy clearing out the Asteroid Belt, the Saturnian fleet prepared for a counter-offensive on Pluto, intending to drive the invaders from the Sol system once and for all. On April 21st, the fleet arrives in Pluto's orbit, weapons blazing. As usual, Micronoid forces attempt to desperately rush the Human fleet, but they are once more cut down by fusion lance fire before they can get into range. The portal over Pluto is closed, but not before fifty Human ships are able to reach it and enter. None of these ships ever returned, but no further Micronoid portals were detected after the Battle of Pluto.

However, during the battle, a small force of Micronoid warships attempted to flank the Human fleet, using Charon's shadow to mask their position. Fortunately for the Saturnian fleet, this force runs directly into a swarm of Human fighters who were directed to flank and engage the Micronoid forces. During the battle, stray fire blasts away a portion of Charon's surface, revealing an alien device of unknown origins embedded in the surface of the moon.

After the Battle of Pluto is over, the device is unearthed by Naval engineers. XCOM Scientists rush to investigate the device, but strong psionic fields onboard the device proper almost immediately force their retreat, while psionic specialists are brought in. The device is thoroughly analyzed, and while its origins remain unknown, its function is discovered. It is determined to be an FTL relay, similar in function to the Elerium Rail stations, albeit on an immensely larger scale. Its destination is determined to be the star Arcturus.

The knowledge gleaned from the Mass Relays would eventually allow humanity to design the Elerium Sling stations, which, while slower than the Mass Relays, are not limited to a set network of destination systems, and are now used as the primary method of inter-stellar travel within Human space.

 **March 1st, 2085: Micronoid War is declared over.**

The Abramovich Test successfully eliminates the last Micronoid holdouts within the Sol system. Reconstruction of Mega Primus has long since been completed, and the few losses sustained by XCOM's military have been replaced as well.

However, the discovery of the Charon Relay catapults Human plans for a counter-offensive against the Ethereals forward by several decades. The XCOM fleet of the Micronoid War is gradually retired or refitted with FTL drives, while the gradual build-up of the human military is accelerated. Over the next twenty years, the XCOM navy nearly quintuples in size, a trend mirrored or surpassed by the rest of XCOM's military branches. As early as 2090, humanity is acutely aware of the fact that another war is on the horizon.

 **March 1st, 2100: Operation Chateau Gaillard. Fourth Ethereal War begins.**

On the 85th anniversary of the First Ethereal War's beginning, the XCOM First Fleet activates the Charon Mass Relay, using it to bypass the Ethereal blockade of the Sol system. Then, once in Arcturus, the Human fleet jumps back to Earth with conventional FTL, while the XCOM Second Fleet jumps to engage the Ethereal fleet from within the Sol System. The two fleets engage within minutes of each other, and the Ethereal forces, attacked from multiple directions and unable to consolidate, suffer heavy losses before retreating. The Fourth Ethereal War begins with a devastating Human victory, and Human forces rapidly expand out of the Sol System, seizing a sphere of space thirty-six light years in radius with next to no resistance.

 **This concludes the history of the Alien Wars within the Sol System. For an up to date history of the Fourth Ethereal War, please visit the XCOM Ministry of Education home site. All citizens are reminded that these successes in war were only possible thanks to the collective efforts and loyalty of all humanity to the XCOM cause, and that all future victories are dependent on the same. Every human must fight, be it on the battlefield, in the factory, or in the administration. Vigilo Confido.**

* * *

 **A/N: And that's a wrap! In retrospect, I really should not have gone so overboard with information that will likely be referenced in passing if at all in the actual story. As it is, the length of this update has necessitated the cut of the history of EWIV, which I may provide via a later special update if enough popular demand exists. In addition, a desire to get back to the actual story has necessitated the cut of the XCOM Technological Codex. Instead of one big codex dump, all relevant information on human technology will be included at the end of each chapter for your continued enjoyment.**

 **Finally, as I passed the 10k mark, I decided to make the Micronoid much more of a curbstomp than it was originally intended. However, that does have significant basis in canon, as the Ethereals took over an entire world, and in my canon, they very nearly managed to do so twice. Meanwhile, in XCOM Apocalypse, the Micronoids attempt to take a single city (Mega Primus), and are taken out by an XCOM that is effectively reduced to glorified law enforcement, using conventional weaponry (Lawpistols, M4000, etc.) and a few specialized plasma/laser guns. I mean seriously, XCOM's driving around in glorified sports' cars instead of actual military vehicles, and the Micronoids still get their asses kicked (To add insult to injury, the time in Apocalypse is measured in weeks instead of months, meaning that the Micronoids got defeated in a matter of weeks rather than months).**

 **Still, I hope you enjoyed this update in spite of its unexpected length. I will endeavor to make future updates no more than 10k words in length, to ensure that they are satisfyingly long to compensate for extended times between updates. After all, I am currently juggling three separate active long-term projects with two more on the backburner. I am attempting to implement an update schedule to manage my projects more efficiently while maintaining a regular update rate, so hopefully that will keep updates coming.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this timeline update, and that it clears up most of the uncertainty posed by the prologue. The next update will bring about a transition into the actual story. Remember, a loyal, patient citizen has nothing to fear from the ASP.** **Vigilo Confido!**


	3. Chapter 1: The Shanxi-Theta Incident

**A/N: My apologies for the delay in between updates, but it could not be helped. On a side note, I found some acceptable maps of the ME galaxy, although the positions of Earth and Arcturus are clearly approximations. However, they are good enough for me to use in planning the coming war. Who knows? I might end up using Photoshop to edit them and post them as they come so that you all may keep track of fleet movements as well.**

 **This chapter is where the story proper will begin. I hope you enjoy what I make of it.**

* * *

 _"Had Admiral Drescher not been so impatient, we could have conquered the entire relay network before its owners even knew what hit them. However, times were desperate, and I can understand why she would order a five ship formation to do the job of a battle fleet."_ \- Senior Rear Admiral Isaac Mallory.

 **Chapter 1: The Shanxi-Theta Incident**

 **February 26th, 2157**

 **High Command Center for the Planning and Continuation of War**

"Commander, I have just received a message from the Armageddon system. Their garrison fleet has reported probing attacks from Ethereal warships. They have been repelled so far, but-" The adjutant's report was cut off midway by the man who sat at the head of the room. In the center of the dim room, an immense hologram of the Milky Way galaxy shimmered, with territory, troop movements, and planned/predicted offensives all marked out.

"But, it means that the Ethereals have managed to bypass the Perseus Line and enter the Orion Arm. If this goes on, we will have to order a general retreat out of the Perseus arm, and that is something we cannot afford." High Commander Aaron Montague finished, surveying the rest of the war room's occupants for any sign of disagreement. Unfortunately, the gaunt faces of the most powerful men in XCOM were all in agreement. If something was not done soon, Humanity would be forced to retreat to more defensible positions in the Orion Arm, giving up hundreds of light years of territory in the largest retreat of human history, abandoning the millions of colonists living near the front.

"I agree. Three more worlds along the Perseus front have been mobilized in full with no-retreat orders given. All but one have already gone silent." Junior Rear Admiral Boris Kalinkov added. He was present as the representative of Grand Admiral Warren Perry, who was currently indisposed on the Perseus front.

"Probing attacks have also been reported on the Saggitarius front, although on a much smaller scale. No significant pushes there yet, but we cannot afford to divert any more ships from there. I believe the other fronts are likewise unable to divert more ships to the Perseus front." Senior Rear Admiral Bai MeiLi added, the Chinese man acting as a representative of his own Grand Admiral.

"I see... It is clear that, if things continue as they are, the Perseus Front will be overwhelmed through sheer attrition, and the Ethereals will once again be in our stellar back yard, and will be able to mount attacks from above and below the galactic plane without having to worry about logistics. Does anyone here have any suggestions regarding a possible strategy to avert this course of events?" Aaron asked. He had been a general, and had personally led the conquest of twenty-three heavily defended worlds, but he relied on others for advice with regards to naval strategy.

Normally, that question only resulted in silence, as a solution continued to evade the thinkers in the room. However, this time, Admiral Kastanie Drescher raised her hand.

"Sir, I would like to request for a map of the known Mass Relay network to be displayed on the holo-galaxy."

"Granted." Aaron replied, and moments later, the systems with mass relays in them were highlighted in green, with green lines denoting the connections between systems. Drescher thought for a moment, before pointing to one of the network's end points.

"I would like to request for the... Shanxi? Yes, the Shanxi system to be magnified, sir." The woman requested, and moments later, the map zoomed in on the Shanxi System. It had been colonized the previous year, and had a population of under one million people. Given a few decades, it would have been transformed into a powerful industrial-agricultural system, as two of the system's inner worlds possessed large reserves of the minerals required for the production of the alloys that XCOM's warships were built of. Meanwhile, the third world in the system had a near-Earth climate and immense amounts of arable land, allowing for the production of immense amounts of foodstuffs to be shipped to the front.

However, at the moment, it was a backwater colony. Its garrison fleet was twenty ships strong, which was disproportionately large for a colony of its size and placement. This was due to its status as a Relay world.

"Has the Shanxi-Theta relay been mapped yet?" Drescher asked after a few moments.

"I am afraid that no maps of the Shanxi-Theta relay are available." Dolores Ewing, head of the Relay Cartography Department, replied.

"Unfortunate. However, I believe that I have our solution." Drescher declared, immediately drawing the attention of the entire room. Satisfied that everyone was listening, she went on without prompting, pulling out a projector rod as she did so.

"Requesting for zoom out to normal, sir." She requested, and the galaxy map followed suit. Pointing the projector rod at the approximate location of Shanxi, Drescher activated the device, and a bright pink marker appeared on the holo-map.

"As all of you already know, the Mass Relay network allows for near-instantaneous FTL transition between two relays. However, only a portion of the network has been mapped out. My proposed solution is to map out and open the Shanxi-Theta relay, and then continue down a hypothetical relay network like so." Drescher spoke, marking out her proposed route with her projector rod.

"As Shanxi is near the edge of the Perseus front, I propose we first use the hypothetical relay network to reach the outer rim of the galaxy. Once that has been done, we once again use the hypothetical relay network to encircle the entirety of the Perseus Front, before mounting a counter-offensive into the rear of the Ethereal battle line, using the Relay systems as staging points." Once she finished explaining, the outer rim of the galaxy was marked in pink, with multiple arrows pointing inward, towards the current Perseus front.

"I see." Aaron replied.

"The primary issue with this plan is that your projection of the relay network has no support behind it. In addition, the logistical requirements of such an offensive are staggering. We would require an entire Grand Fleet for this." Boris replied, but his voice was thoughtful.

"Even if reality does not match our prediction, we could still potentially encircle a portion of the Perseus front, and thus alleviate some of the pressure on it. As for the logistical requirements... I believe that the systems along the relay network can be rapidly colonized and developed to further our industrial capabilities." Drescher replied.

"Even the rapid colonization and development of a world can take a decade before we start to see returns. That is a long-term solution, but we cannot afford to think in the long term. Not with the Ethereals about to break into our back yard." Boris countered.

Drescher was silent for a long moment, before giving her response.

"How quickly can we put together a grand fleet from converted non-combat ships?" She asked. It was Ronald MacLeahy, director of XCOM's merchant marine, who responded.

"A mass-conversion effort of that scale would take at least three years, and could potentially cripple our internal supply lines." He replied.

"What about old, mothballed vessels?" Drescher pressed.

"The only ships still in mothballs are old Micronoid-War era vessels that have so far avoided scrapping. We would have to perform almost total overhauls of their systems, which could take anywhere from months for the smaller vessels, to years for the larger ones." The answer caused Drescher to frown.

"Unless anyone here can think of a better solution, I believe that this plan is a gamble that we must make. I propose that the first stages of the relay-based encirclement be done with garrison forces pulled from core systems. These forces shall then be supplemented with refurbished vessels and converted mercantile ships until the worlds along the relay network have been industrialized to the point where they are capable of producing their own naval forces." She said after a moment.

"Where will we get the manpower required for the colonization?" Aaron asked.

"Most colonized systems near the Perseus Front are unable to produce anything worthwhile due to the constant threat of Ethereal raids. I propose that we evacuate those worlds and re-allocate the colonists and all movable infrastructure onto the worlds along the relay network. Empirical evidence from the initial expansion shows that the Ethereals do not attack worlds on the relay network, and that a small 'safe zone' exists around said worlds, which Ethereal forces avoid. Whatever the reason for this, we must take full advantage of it." Laura Takamura, director of the Colonization and Development bureau, provided the response. For a moment, the room was silent as the assembled Admirals, Generals and Directors awaited Aaron's response.

"Very well." Aaron stood up from his chair, leaning slightly on his desk for support.

"Admiral Drescher, consider yourself promoted to probationary Grand Admiral. You will be taking command of the provisional Sixth Grand Fleet, whose purpose is the execution of the relay encirclement plan, codename: Operation Sally Port. You will be given the authority to pull any ship of light cruiser weight or below from core-world garrisons in the vicinity of the Crux, Carina and Saggitarius Fronts. Any ship of greater tonnage will require the approval of local commanding officer. You are prohibited from appropriating any vessel of Dreadnought, Battleship or Heavy Carrier tonnage without the personal approval of that front's grand admiral. You are permitted to assemble five hundred warships for the initial colonization push. Additional vessels will be provided to you upon their withdrawal from mothballs and overhaul, or upon their successful conversion. Once the initial fleet is assembled, you are to take it through the Shanxi-Theta relay, and use it to secure all systems along the segment of the Mass Relay network required for encirclement of the enemy. Do not fail, probationary Grand Admiral Drescher." He said, before turning to another area of the room.

"General Dufresne, consider yourself allocated to Admiral Drescher's forces as a planet-side military consultant. You are to take the 23rd Titan, 412th Solar, 53rd Arcturus, 1st Formalhaut, and the 8th Epsilon Eridani regiments, and use these forces to garrison any planets along the relay network that have been designated as staging points for the eventual counter-offensive."

"Understood, Commander. However, all the listed regiments are still in the final stages of training. None of them have any combat experience." The general in question replied.

"We cannot afford to pull any of our blooded regiments from the fronts. You will have to make do with what we can spare." Aaron replied, before turning to the director of Colonization and Development.

"Director Takamura, while this is going on, you are to co-ordinate with Grand Admiral Warren Perry with regards to the colonist and infrastructure relocation. I would also like your personal recommendation for a sub-director of colonization and development to accompany Operation Sally Port."

"Yes sir. I will have it within the hour." Laura replied.

"Good. Drescher, I want a full report on your progress at the end of the next solar week. Unless anyone else here has something to suggest, you are dismissed." When nobody raised their hand after a few moments, the assembled admirals, generals and directors walked out of the room, returning to their normal duties as the administrators of the XCOM government.

 **March 3rd, 2157**

 **Shanxi System**

"Attention all vessels of the 1st Shanxi Exploratory Fleet. We are now commencing mass relay activation procedures. All vessels not involved in the activation process are to maintain distance of at least fifteen thousand kilometers from the relay."

Junior Rear Admiral Jacob Cohn spoke rapidly into the microphone. A few moments later, communications officers spread the message throughout the five-ship formation that called itself the 1st Shanxi Exploratory Fleet.

The order to open the relay had come through from High Command approximately two days prior, as the scientists and engineers onboard the relay had finally finished mapping out the device's possible destination systems. Most known systems on the relay network had two mass relays, one outbound, and another inbound. A few, like Sol, had one that did both jobs. However, there were many different classes of relay in the galaxy, according to data extracted from onboard the one in Sol, which had been classified as a Beta relay. Each relay class had a different function, be it acting as a long-range outbound relay, or a short-range multifunctional one. A few known classes of relay had not been encountered, such as those termed 'Omega' and 'Alpha', but that was irrelevant to the situation at hand.

Under normal circumstances, an entire battle fleet would be sitting around the relay, ready to engage any possible opponents on the other side. However, Admiral Drescher was still assembling the Provisional Sixth Grand Fleet, and had ordered the Shanxi garrison fleet to begin relay activation before the main bulk of the fleet could arrive. That was why the Mass Relay was being covered by a mere five ships, with a Heavy Cruiser as their flagship. Back at recently colonized Shanxi, another twelve ships waited, composing the rest of the Shanxi Garrison Fleet.

"Admiral, all unnecessary ships are clear of the Relay. The _XCS Meyer Gatz_ is in position to commence activation on your mark." The communications officer reported moments later.

"Good. Commence activation." With those orders, the XCOM Frigate by the relay got down to business, transmitting initial activation messages to the enormous construct. Should that fail, then drones would be ferried over to attempt to activate it from within. Fortunately, the procedure went smoothly, and the enormous space station began to pulse with a blinding white light. The rings around its core began to spin, stabilizing the inconceivably powerful singularity at their center. After three minutes, the Shanxi-Theta relay was alive once more.

"Relay is active. We are ready to commence transit on your orders, Admiral." The captain of the _Meyer Gatz_ reported.

"Excellent. All ships of the 1st Shanxi Exploratory Fleet, you are green to proceed through the Shanxi-Theta relay. _Meyer Gatz,_ are the Relay technicians prepared?" Jacob asked.

The first time humanity had boarded a mass relay, the team had immediately retreated due to the presence of an immensely powerful psionic field onboard. Now, Relay investigation teams were escorted by a full squad of psionic warfare specialists as they went about their business on the alien megastructures. With their help, the relays no longer felt 'wrong' to stand inside, and the mapping teams could proceed with their work unimpeded.

"They're good to go."

"Excellent. Transmitting transit request in T-minus five minutes. All ships are to close to transit range of the Shanxi-Theta relay." Cohn ordered, just as his own ship sped towards the alien station. At T-minus one minute, all ships were within transit range.

"Transmitting transit request in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Transmitting." The countdown ended with all five ships in a loose combat box, with Cohn's flagship, the _XCS Okhotsk,_ at its center.

Then, the relay registered the transit request, and the world around the ships flashed white.

Travel by mass relay was as close as anyone in human space could get to true teleportation, with a trip from point A to point B being measured in Planck times. Not even the teleportation devices reverse-engineered from Micronoid tech during their brief invasion of the solar system could hope to match that time, as they took several seconds to transport someone several hundred meters. The amount of energy required for a relay to operate was therefore astronomical, far beyond humanity's ability to produce, but evidently, such was not true for the makers of the mass relays.

"We are through the relay. Formation drift is just under twelve-hundred kilometers. Commencing survey of the system." The sensors officer reported a second after the transit was finished.

"Prioritize locating the system's exit relay. We can afford to put off the planetary surveys, but we absolutely must map that relay. If the Relay Plan is going to succeed, we need that data." Cohn ordered, and the sensors officer nodded.

The Relay Plan, officially known as Operation Sally Port, was a plan devised by XCOM High Command that was intended to break the delicate stalemate on the Perseus Front. By mapping and exploring the mass relays, human forces would attempt to establish staging points behind the Ethereal battle lines. Once those staging points were set, Human forces would be diverted through the relay network and attack the Ethereals from behind, thus forcing them into a two-front war. It was hoped that such a maneuver would reduce the pressure on the Perseus front, and in turn allow for a Human counter-offensive. That, at least, was the plan.

"Sir! I am picking up several anomalous contacts within this system. They appear to be an unknown class of starship. Definitely alien." The sensors officer reported a minute later, panic clear on his face.

"Perform an in-depth scan of that area of space. I want to know their displacement, armament, and if possible, weaknesses. Judging by the sensor readings, we still have some time before they can see us, unless they've got a buoy by the relay." Cohn ordered. Hopefully, this battle would be over quickly.

* * *

"Captain! Relay-314 has spontaneously activated. We are reading five unidentified contacts as having come through." The sensors' officer spoke up, his voice clearly expressing wonder. The news brought captain Ghius Ralac to full attention as he registered the information.

"Unidentified contacts? Are you sure?" He demanded.

"Yes sir. Judging by their size, I'd say four of them are frigate-weight, while the last one is... I'd say it's a heavy cruiser, although it is definitely in the upper end of the spectrum. They do not match any known vessels in Council space, and a fleet of this size is beyond the capability of any pirate group operating in this area. I believe we are dealing with a first-contact scenario, sir." The sensors officer reported.

"Damn... I never thought I'd be the next one to make contact with an alien race. Arnus, I want a first-contact package transmitted at once." Ghius spoke, addressing his ship's communications officer.

"Sir, we don't have a first contact package. We weren't given one-"

"Then transmit something else! I don't care what you do, just try and keep them talking with their hands off any weapons they may have. The last thing we want is another Rachni war. In addition, I want to record and transmit a priority-one message to Palaven immediately. We need to let the Hierarchy know about this." Ghius ordered.

"Yes sir. I am now initiating communications with the alien craft. You will be live for priority-one transmission shortly, sir." The communications officer replied.

"Good."

* * *

"Captain, I am getting a transmission from the alien craft." The comms officer reported, his voice grim.

"That can only mean one thing." Cohn's XO reported.

"Willing collaborators... I guess that the Vipers weren't the only ones." Cohn mused.

Of all the races under Ethereal rule, the most reviled among them were those designated as willing collaborators. These races had developed inter-stellar travel to some degree and made contact with the Ethereals and willingly joined their empire, providing tithes of population and resources to feed the Ethereal war machine in exchange for a small area of space to call their own. Once they had discovered this, XCOM High Command had ordered that any race that willingly collaborated with the Ethereals was to be exterminated utterly. The day after that order was given, the blockaded homeworld of the Viper Imperium, the first race of willing collaborators encountered by Humanity, was subjected to three days of orbital bombardment. Every world of the Viper Imperium too well-defended to assault traditionally was subjected to this treatment, until the only Vipers in the galaxy were the mindless cannon fodder produced in the Ethereal cloning vats. No other willing collaborator races had been encountered since, but the policy remained in place.

"Nichols, I want those ships gone, starting with the fastest ones. I don't want any of them to make a run for the relay."

"Aye-aye sir. Enemy force composition is one light cruiser-massed ship and two frigate-mass vessels. Targeting the most distant frigate." Gunnery officer Nichols replied.

* * *

"Captain, priority-one channel is open. You are live."

"Thank you, Communications Officer Arnus." Ghius replied, before turning to his computer.

"This is a priority-one transmission from Captain Ghius Ralac of the 423rd Patrol Flotilla, which has been patrolling the area of space surrounding Relay 314. I am transmitting to report a first-contact with an alien race that has just passed through the relay. Repeat, I am-"

"Captain, sensors are reporting an emissions spike from- WHAT WAS THAT?" The sensors' officer cried out, cutting him off.

"Officer, report! Now!" Ghius spun around.

"The _Delarik_! It's gone! The alien cruiser has destroyed it!" The comms officer replied.

"Spirits... At this range? Never mind that, return fire! I want a targeting solution on the enemy vessel immediately! I want that thing taken out before it can fire aga-"

"Emissions spike!"

"Evasive ac-"

"Frigate _Harrikan_ has been destroyed!"

"Damn! Helm, get us out of here!" Ghius shouted, hammering the transmit button for all it was worth. Even if his ship was destroyed, the Hierarchy would be forewarned. Then, several seconds later, there came a bright flash of light and a deafening roar. With a final shot from a fusion lance, the 423rd Patrol Flotilla had passed from existence and into history.

* * *

"All X-ray ships are destroyed, sir. Sensors have located the system exit relay. It is active." The sensors officer reported.

"That was easier than I expected. However, their presence means that we will have to return to Shanxi. I'd rather not proceed further down the relay network when there could be more of them waiting on the other side." Cohn ordered.

"Very well, sir."

"In addition, we have a planet to warn and defend. If any of those ships managed to snap off a transmission of some sort, Shanxi will doubtlessly have visitors sooner rather than later."

With those words, the 1st Shanxi Exploration Fleet turned back. Upon arrival in the Shanxi system, their first action was to transmit their findings to High Command. The orders for militia mobilization in the Shanxi system came scarcely twelve hours later.

* * *

 **March 4th, 2157**

 **Citadel, Serpent Nebula**

Councilor Tevos was woken from her rest by a loud beeping, which failed to cease even after she slammed her fist into her holographic alarm-clock several times. As she sat up in her bed, she realized that it was still several hours before the infernal device would normally ring. Indeed, the sound was coming not from her alarm clock, but from her omni-tool. Evidently, she had an urgent message from Councilor Barakis.

Opening it, her eyes widened at the brief, but informative message.

"I am declaring an emergency session of the Citadel Council. Hostile first contact has been made. More details will be shared in person." The Turian councilor spoke, before the message ended.

Quickly getting dressed, Tevos headed out of her Presidium suite and quickly got into her sky-car. Her driver quickly started the vehicle, and per her orders ferried her directly to the Citadel Tower, bypassing the lengthy elevator ride.

Walking into the Council's private meeting room, she saw that both Councilor Barakis and Dalatrass Verlin, his Salarian opposite number, were already present.

"Took you long enough." Verlin remarked as she caught sight of her. Tevos never liked the Salarian councilor, and a retort was on her lips when Barakis interrupted her.

"Not now. I did not call you here so that you two can indulge in another series of irritating arguments." The Turian councilor said.

"Don't worry, I am sure that our esteemed colleague is more than willing to put aside her irrational dislike of me given what is at stake." Verlin added.

"Not now, Verlin!" Barakis replied, agitated. Deciding to steer the discussion back on track, Tevos spoke up.

"So, Barakis, what exactly has you so agitated?" She asked, sitting down as she did so.

"Approximately five hours ago, a priority-one message from the 423rd Patrol Flotilla reached Palaven Naval Headquarters. It has since made its way here, and its contents are... Disturbing, to say the least." The Turian Councilor replied, before continuing on.

"The 423rd was assigned to patrol an area of space containing an inactive relay, designated Relay 314. Judging by the contents of their last transmission, the relay was activated from the other side, and several alien ships, at least one of which was cruiser-class. As with any potential first contact scenario, the flotilla attempted to open a channel of communication to the alien vessels. At that point, midway through the transmission, the aliens opened fire and quickly annihilated the flotilla." The meeting room was completely silent as Barakis finished speaking.

It was Tevos who replied first.

"Now, before we all go on a warpath against these new aliens, I believe that we must first attempt a diplomatic-" Barakis promptly cut her off.

"Diplomacy? You're asking me to negotiate at a time like this? Five hundred and fifty six turians are dead, and you expect me to just stand down and act as if it never happened? No. I did not come here to inform you about the hostile first contact at Relay 314. I have come to inform you both that the Turian Seventh Fleet is currently mobilizing for the war against the alien race encountered there. They will be accompanied by three Turian army regiments, and are tasked with the elimination of all resistance on the other side of Relay 314." The Turian councilor declared, silencing the room once more.

"I can understand wanting to avenge the fallen, Councilor, but I believe you are acting somewhat rashly. If we are to commit to an all-out war against an alien race, we must first gather intelligence, gauge the aliens' capabilities, and only then do we strike." Verlin spoke up.

"That is half the purpose of the Relay 314 operation: To engage the enemy in combat and assess their capabilities. Once that is done, we will formulate a plan for the rest of the campaign." Barakis replied.

"I see. I assume your primarch has asked you to gain our support for this venture?" Verlin asked.

"Yes. I have been ordered to request the assistance of both the Salarian and Asari governments, and I will make that request now. Are you two willing to aid the Turian Hierarchy in the pacification of a hostile alien race?" It was Verlin who replied first.

"As of this moment, the Salarian Union has no stake in this conflict. For all we know, your ships were destroyed by scared, underdeveloped aliens that merely got lucky, and are now cowering on their homeworld on the other end of the relay. If that is the case, then I see no need to waste Salarian lives in what would be a short peacekeeping action outside of our space. However, if your initial fleet obtains concrete proof of a second conflict akin to the Rachni war, then the Salarian Union will not hesitate to commit its forces to assist in obtaining victory." She spoke, and after a moment, Barakis nodded.

"That is acceptable. What about you, Tevos? Can our forces count on support from the Asari?" Tevos shook her head at that,

"You are discussing invasion plans when there is still a chance for a diplomatic solution. The only Asari support you will get is a negotiation team that will be promptly dispatched to Palaven. I will not waste Asari lives until all possible avenues for a peaceful solution are exhausted." She replied

"And if negotiations fail? Will the Asari still stand idle while the Turians and Salarians fight?" Barakis asked.

"If it becomes necessary, the Asari are willing to fight a defensive war. However, I refuse to allow our race to be known as the aggressors in this coming conflict." Tevos declared.

"How typical of you Asari." Verlin commented, drawing an irritated look from Barakis.

"Not now, Verlin. Keep your petty grudge against Tevos separate from issues of galactic importance." The Turian councilor replied, before addressing the group.

"Unless one of you has anything to add, I have a report to make to the Primarch. Tevos, I will inform him of your negotiation team. I recommend you have it assembled and dispatched as quickly as possible, as I do not believe the Primarch is willing to delay a military operation of this scale for the sake of a few diplomats." He spoke, and when no reply came, he turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

 **March 7th, 2157**

 **Palaven Orbit**

"General Arterius, the leader of the Asari diplomatic team is here to see you."

Fleet-General Desolas Arterius looked up from his holo-screen as his adjutant spoke. Moments later, the Asari in question strode into the room, glancing about imperiously before her eyes settled upon him.

"What seems to be the problem now?" Desolas sighed before she could speak. Not for the first time, he wondered why Matriarch Esthelia was chosen as the leader of the diplomatic team for the mission. He could see how her forceful personality would help in negotiating favorable trade deals with other Council races, but against a potentially hostile race, that same personality would be more of a liability than an asset. He wouldn't be surprised if, during her first meeting with their representative, she would end up walking across the room and forcefully melding with the alien instead of waiting for translation protocols to be established.

"I would once again like to question your choice of ship to house me. The _Kanresk_ is a fine example of a frigate, but it is sorely lacking in adequate diplomatic facilities. My entire entourage has to share a single sleeping room for the goddess' sake! In addition, there seems to be a lack of an adequate conference room onboard, making it difficult to hold talks with the aliens." The matriarch demanded, and Desolas sighed. Originally, he had planned on housing her onboard his flagship, the _Shield of Palaven,_ but after meeting her, he quickly shifted her onto the _Kanresk_ in hopes of getting her out of his hair.

"Once again, you were given two rooms onboard the _Kanresk._ As there are only four of you, I do not believe your entire entourage should be sharing one room. As for the lack of diplomatic facilities, I was of the opinion that you would want to conduct talks on the aliens' world. After all, is diplomacy not about trust? Besides, I don't want any potential saboteurs on my ships, and most certainly not on my dreadnought." Desolas replied.

"That is unacceptable. I require an entire room for my own use, and my entourage has been complaining about cramped quarters, so I would like to request at least one additional room, if not two. As for negotiations, I refuse to go down to their world. Negotiations must be done from a position of power, and I would rather force them to see the military might up close before speaking. I believe that would make them more... Agreeable. As for saboteurs, I do hope that the mighty Turian military is competent enough to be able to deter a few unruly aliens." The matriarch replied dismissively.

"Look, if you want to discuss room assignments, talk to the captain of the _Kanresk-_ "

"I did. He has referred me to you time and time again."

"I see. Then I refuse to displace more crewmen under my command in order to accommodate you. As for negotiations, I honestly don't care where they are conducted so long as they go off smoothly. I may have orders to wage war on the other side of 314, but I am willing to give peace a chance before ordering any of my men to their deaths. Now, unless you have anything else to say, you are dismissed." The matriarch glowered at him for a moment, before spinning around on her heel and walking away.

As the door slid shut behind the diplomat, Desolas sighed.

"Will she ever learn?" His adjutant commented.

"If she can't get something as simple as that through her head... I don't have very high hopes for peace." Desolas replied.

"Well, we can always hope." The adjutant replied.

The room was silent for a moment, before Desolas spoke up.

"My brother is part of one of the army regiments that are coming with us. If it weren't for him being part of this operation, I probably wouldn't be so eager for peace."

"Really?"

"Yes, he's under General Orinia's command, not mine, so it's all in compliance with regulations." While Turian generals were expected to be competent in both planet-side and space-borne warfare, responsibility was usually divided up among several of them to de-centralize the chain of command. Therefore, Desolas was in charge of the navy, while the army was under General Orinia's command.

"I see."

"I don't even know which transport he's on, and I don't intend to try and find out. Regardless, I assume the fleet is ready to depart?"

"Yes. Final preparations are made, and as soon as the esteemed matriarch returns to her ship, we are ready to set course through the relay."

"Good."

Several minutes later, the _Shield of Palaven_ began to move, the hundreds of other ships composing the Turian Seventh Fleet turning with it, setting a course for the Palaven relay. The fleet and its attached regimental transports arrived at Relay 314 approximately six hours later.

* * *

 **March 8th, 2157**

 **Shanxi City Outskirts, 0700 Hours**

"Ready for another day of trench digging?" Zaeed Massani asked his friend, Vido Santiago, as the pair of sixteen year old boys made their way out of their temporary housing tent, heading for the nearby earthworks. Already, a network of trenches had been dug around Shanxi, as every citizen capable of moving dirt was put to work. Even the full-time Shanxi garrison, small as it may have been, was hard at work, although its numbers were concentrated at the most likely points of attack, rather than the somewhat isolated position that Zaeed was fortifying.

"I'm on mine placement duty for the first half of the day, so I won't be in the trenches for a few hours yet." Vido replied. A loud whine overhead caused the two boys to look up, just as a formation of sky-cars passed overhead. Under their wide fuselages, they all carried a cloud-seeding apparatus, which they had been using for the past couple of days to create immense rain storms around the outskirts of the city proper. The intent was to turn the dirt around the city into thick, knee-deep mud, so as to slow a potential infantry assault on the city's outskirts. As Shanxi lacked a proper air force, many more sky cars had improvised bomb racks and plasma machine guns strapped to them, for all the good that would do.

Of course, against the dedicated Ethereal assault that everyone was sure was coming, such measures would be practically useless, as was the rest of Shanxi's mobilization for war. At least there was enough armor to go around, and the colony itself was small enough that everyone with even rudimentary training could be afforded a gun, even if the younger defenders of the world had to make do with lasers, rather than the more powerful plasma guns carried by the Shanxi Garrison and the older veterans that had settled the planet after their terms of service were up.

Entering the armor storage shed, the two of them quickly donned their assigned suits of armor, the internal temperature regulator quickly cooling them down. Shanxi was in the middle of its summer, and the colonists had quickly found that working in their cool armor was much more bearable than without.

Strapping his laser rifle to his back, Zaeed exited the shed and headed off to work. Trench digging was a monotonous task, but knowing that he would likely have to fight in his handiwork kept him from slacking off.

Forty people had been assigned to the sector of land where Zaeed was working. Only two of them were dedicated planetary garrison members, who stood out thanks to their top-of-the-line equipment, as opposed to the second and third-hand gear of the Shanxi militia. One of them was nearby, checking and re-checking the ammunition feed of an automortar. Seemingly satisfied, he turned to Zaeed.

"Allright kid, the emergency detonator is in place, the turntable is running smoothly, and the ammo feed is operational. Time to bury this. I want it completely covered, but keep the dirt out of the barrel, unless you want to clear it out yourself." The man ordered, and Zaeed got to work, obeying the soldier's instructions to the letter. Soon, the automatic mortar was buried, with only the stubby tip of its barrel protruding above the ground. Everything else, from the drives that allowed the weapon to traverse, to the ammunition feed, were buried, although the ammunition intake was placed a few meters forward, within the trench itself, so that the weapon could be constantly supplied with fusion warheads. The entire assembly was rigged to detonate at the push of a button, in case the position was overrun.

"Good. That there's the closest thing this position has to heavy artillery, and-" Before the soldier could continue, an eerie howl sounded out in the distance. Immediately, all work ceased.

"That's the alarm! To the trenches, move, move!" The soldier ordered, and the nearby militiamen complied, grabbing what they could and sprinting into the earthworks. Keeping his digging tool on him, Zaeed grabbed a crate of mortar bombs before making his way to the nearest trench, placing the crate down beside the automortar feed intake, before, seeing as there was no immediate threat, pulling himself out of the dirt and running back to get more ammunition.

The last crate was soon safe within the earthworks, while Zaeed stood a few meters away, looking up at the sky.

"See anything?" A familiar voice caused him to jump.

"Nope, nothing." Zaeed replied, turning to Vido, coming face to face with a blank helmet visor.

"Then why did they sound the alarm? Is it a drill?" The other boy asked, the alarm still howling in the background.

"Most likely something came through the relay. Hopefully the fleet will deal with it before it reaches us." Another voice interjected. Looking around, Zaeed saw the soldier from before.

"Amen to that." Vido chimed in, glancing up at the sky. However, the alarms continued their unceasing sound, slowly fading into the background, but never going silent.

* * *

General Desolas Arterius stood on the bridge of the _Shield of Palaven,_ gazing at the holographic projection of the, until recently, insignificant system that housed Relay 314. On the other side of that relay could lie anything, and it was his duty to lead the way into the unknown, with an army and fleet at his back.

"General, the channel is open." His adjutant spoke up, and Desolas thanked him, before taking a deep breath, and addressing the fleet.

"Today is a turning point in history, if not for our own race, then for another. Today, we proceed through Relay 314 into a hostile unknown, one that, in its ignorance, has claimed the lives of our fellow Turians. However, we must remember that we are above those who dwell on the other side of this relay. We must not forget that we represent not only the Turian Hierarchy, but the entirety of the Citadel Council. Therefore, should we have to wage war upon the race on the other side of this relay, we must do so not as vengeful conquerors, but as the bringers of a new age. We must not ravage, but rather, subdue and enlighten. That is our purpose today: To bring this new race into compliance with the Council and usher in a new age of mutual prosperity for both Hierarchy and Alien. Now, it is my hope that the esteemed Matriarch Esthelia can resolve this without bloodshed, but we must be ready in the event of negotiations falling through. In that event, we shall wage a war of pacification upon the unruly alien race that refuses to see reason. That is our duty, and we shall fulfill it without fail, for we are the proud soldiers of the Turian Hierarchy! For Primarch and Palaven!" The cry was echoed throughout the vessel's bridge as Desolas cut the channel, before turning to his adjutant.

"Send a message to the _Kanresk._ I want it to go through the relay first and attempt diplomacy alone. We jump through four Citadel standard hours later. Hopefully, the Asari will be able to establish a method of communication by then." He ordered.

"Yes sir." The adjutant saluted, and several minutes later, the _Kanresk_ broke formation, making its way to the relay. The gargantuan structure lit up as the frigate transmitted its transit request, and then, in a flash of light, the warship was gone.

* * *

"Relay is lighting up, we're about to- Something just came through! Buoy is-" The sensors officer began, but the captain cut him off.

"Fire, now! I want that thing gone!"

"Yes sir."

For a moment, everyone onboard the light cruiser _XCS Julius Caesar_ heard a high pitched whine, as the wedge-shaped vessel's fusion lance spoke its piece. Then, an outside observer would have seen a blinding white streak of light come screaming out of the vessel's prow, crossing the immense gap between cannon and target in a matter of seconds. It was not the only shot fired, as every other human warship in the system had opened up, pouring nuclear fire at near light speed into their target. However, it was the _Julius Caesar_ that hit first.

The alien vessel flashed for a moment, as kinetic barriers registered the jet of fusing hydrogen and attempted to deflect it. Then, the barriers burst, unable to repel the kinetic energy of a quarter-kilogram of hydrogen travelling at 0.95c. That jet of hydrogen effortlessly cut through the underside of the alien vessel, punching clean through it before losing cohesion with a bright flash of light on the other side, wasting the majority of its energy in the empty void.

The frigate _XCS Jacob Marion_ had better luck, striking the now-unshielded frigate in its thicker stern, the fusion lance blast losing cohesion while still inside the alien craft. The rear of the ship burst like an over-ripe tomato, as a multi-megaton nuclear explosion went off inside it. Five more fusion lances cut through the blazing fireball that was once a starship, ensuring that there were no survivors.

"What the hell was that?" The gunnery officer demanded, sounding almost disappointed as he watched the alien ship burn.

"I don't know, but our lance went clean through it. That thing clearly wasn't made of Lilium alloy." The sensors officer replied, referring to the human name for the ethereal alloy that composed both human and ethereal warships. It had been named in honor of the woman who had discovered the formula for its mass production.

"I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, although if that is what we're facing, we've got this in the bag." The gunnery officer replied. Then, the captain spoke.

"Allright, cut the chatter. I've got orders from the admiral. We've been ordered to change position in relation to the relay. Helm, get us behind the relay's entry zone, standoff range." The man ordered, and the ship moved to obey. When the alien ship came through the relay, the Human defenders were lying in wait below the ecliptic, knowing that all ships coming through the relay would exit parallel to the structure's prongs. That position would allow them to rain fire up into the underbelly of any ships that came through, but if the rest of the ships that were coming through were like the recently-destroyed frigate, then a different angle of attack was necessary to avoid over-penetration.

"Yes sir." The reply was given, and the _Julius Caesar_ began to move, following the rest of the small human fleet as it shifted position, arriving at a second firing position, this time right behind the relay's entry vector. As it moved, alarms began to blare throughout the light cruiser, ordering all crewmen to don their pressure suits. Then, after enough time had passed, the atmosphere within the ship began to hiss out of the room, being gravitationally compressed and shifted to a centralized storage unit.

Now devoid of air, the bridge was silent, as the crew waited for the next relay transit, the sounds of their breath and heartbeat being their only companions. Back on Shanxi, the alarms had been sounded, and the world was mobilizing for war. Hundreds of light years away, Admiral Kastanie Drescher's fleet was mobilizing, preparing to reinforce the colony world, but it was still weeks away, as its elements were still assembling at Arcturus. Once the fleet was united, it would use an Elerium Sling station to quickly travel to Shanxi, but for now, the colony stood alone. Its defenders' only purpose was to delay the enemy, and keep them occupied long enough for reinforcements to arrive. The question now was not if Shanxi would fall, but rather, how long it would be before its defenders were gone.

* * *

Four standard Citadel hours had passed since the _Kanresk_ had gone through the relay.

"General, all ships are ready for relay transit on your orders." Desolas heard his adjutant speaking, and nodded.

"Good. Transmit the order. All ships are to proceed through the relay. I want the reconnaissance squadrons through first, then cruisers, then dreadnoughts and escorts. In the event of the system being hostile, frigates are to secure a perimeter around the relay while the heavy hitters come through. All transports are to wait for three standard Citadel hours before making Relay transit, unless circumstances dictate otherwise." The General ordered, and the bridge crew scrambled to obey. All around Relay 314, hundreds of frigates, cruisers and dreadnoughts took up position. Then, the first transit request was sent through the relay, and the first frigate squadron vanished in a burst of blinding light.

* * *

The silence of the _XCS Okhotsk_ 's bridge was broken by the sensors officer's voice.

"Relay is lighting up! Buoy is reporting one... six... fifteen... sixteen hostile contacts coming through, and more are on their way!" The man's voice reverberated through Jacob Cohn's suit helmet.

"Open fire. I don't want a single one of those ships to reach Shanxi." He ordered. Moments later, the ship gave an imperceptible shudder as the fusion lance fired. All through the fleet, the human ships opened fire, and moments later, the newly arrived ships began to go up in balls of flame.

* * *

"They're right behind us! Spirits, they're behind us! Turn this ship around, now! I want them in my sights!" The messages flew between the confused Turian ships as the _Shield of Palaven_ transitioned through the relay. Moments later, a bright streak of light narrowly missed it, as a Human frigate attempted to take a shot at it.

"What the- Damn, Helm, bring us around! They're behind the Relay entry zone. Sensors, what is their range?" Desolas demanded, quickly realizing his fleet's predicament.

"The enemy range is... Spirits, how are they doing this? They're nearly ten times past the range of our main gun!" The sensors officer replied.

"Damn. We must close the distance if we want to start returning fire. I want all frigates to rush towards them. Judging by these readings, we have an overwhelming numerical advantage. As the frigates are rushing forward, I want our heavy hitters to regroup and do the same. Do not return fire until the enemy is in range, that would do nothing but waste ammunition." Desolas ordered, and he was obeyed.

As soon as the orders were relayed, hundreds of Turian frigates, nearly half of the surviving fleet's numeric strength, broke off and charged the twenty Human warships. Pushing their engines to their fullest, the small capital ships made desperate evasive maneuvers, but even then, frigate after frigate went up in a blast of blinding light, adding to the growing debris field around Relay 314. Behind them, the cruisers and dreadnoughts regrouped, and then began their own charge.

It was now a race between Human gunnery skills and Turian engines, but as ship after ship went up in flames, it seemed to be a race rigged in Humanity's favor.

* * *

However, the Human fleet had its own problems.

"Sir, our hydrogen reserves are running low. We've got enough for six more shots before we are out of reactive material for our fusion lance." The gunnery officer's report caused Jacob Cohn to growl, just as the cannon fired again, wiping another alien ship off the system map.

"Scratch that sir, five shots left."

"This changes nothing. Keep firing until we are all out, then close to plasma range." Jacob ordered, as another shot left the barrel, slamming into one of the oncoming alien vessels. Behind the small fry, he saw the larger ships were moving as well.

"Attention all ships, concentrate fire on the larger enemy vessels. Ignore the frigates, our plasma should be more than enough for them." Obeying his orders, the Human fleet switched targets, and opened up on the larger enemy warships in the distance. As the hydrogen reserves ticked down, Jacob turned to his chief gunnery officer.

"Gunner, see that big ship over there? Surrounded by cruisers? Use our last shot to take that thing out, if possible." He ordered, pointing at the holo-map. The officer nodded, and the fusion lance emitter shifted slightly. Then, pumping the last remnants of its hydrogen reserves into the weapon's reaction chamber, the _XCS Okhotsk_ 's fusion lance fired for the final time.

The bright lance of light crossed the void between gun and target in a matter of seconds, and slammed into the prow of the enemy warship. The kinetic barriers flashed, putting up a good fight, but ultimately not being up to the task. The lance shot then punched through five hundred meters of armor and bulkheads before losing cohesion in the heart of the Turian dreadnought. One hundred megatons of nuclear fire were unleashed in the stern of the once-mighty vessel, and its rear vanished, reduced to molten slag and high-velocity debris, which impacted its nearby cruiser escorts, causing their kinetic barriers to flash. As a testament to the ship's construction, two hundred meters of prow remained largely intact, and was sent careening into a cruiser, glancing off the vessel's kinetic barriers and spinning away, slowly breaking apart. Of the dreadnought's three thousand crew members, there were no survivors.

The rest of the human fleet fired their last fusion lances as well. Then, with their long-range weapons depleted, the fleet ignited its engines and charged the enemy.

* * *

To say that Desolas was shocked was an understatement. The loss of the _Fury of Taetrus_ in such a sudden manner was a horrific blow to the Seventh fleet's morale. Dreadnoughts were more than just warships, they were the ultimate symbol of military might, to whom the only real counter was another dreadnought. To see one annihilated in such a manner, with a single shot no less, was nothing short of astonishing. Of course, the Seventh fleet had two more dreadnoughts at its disposal, but still, something had to be done, and fast.

That was when Desolas noted that the enemy ships had stopped firing their strange energy weapons.

"General, enemy ships are accelerating, and at a rate that can put even the fastest Asari frigates to shame. They will be within gun range in approximately three minutes." The sensors officer spoke up.

"They're up to something. They wouldn't just abandon such an immense advantage for no reason." Desolas replied, voicing the sentiment that was spread throughout his flagship's CIC.

A few minutes passed before the officer spoke up once more.

"Frigates have engaged the enemy. First shots are fired."

"Good. As soon as we are in range, open fire on the largest enemy vessel. We must avenge the _Fury of Taetrus."_

Several seconds later, the enemy formation was in range, and the Turian dreadnought opened fire.

* * *

"Sir, enemy ships have finally opened fire... They seem to be using some sort of mass driver weaponry." Jacob nodded as his sensors officer gave his report.

"They're surprisingly agile, for such low-speed vessels. Our own frigates would be hard-pressed to match them." The gunnery officer commented, as the _Okhotsk_ brought its plasma batteries to bear against the enemy.

In comparison to the fusion lances, the vessel's plasma cannons fired shots of a smaller mass, at a significantly lower velocity. Thus, as they slammed into the enemy vessels, their shields sparked, but held. Or at least, they held for the first few shots. One full broadside from the _Okhotsk_ was enough to reduce an enemy frigate to molten slag, but for every frigate that went up in flames, two more joined the fray. Two hundred kilometers off the heavy cruiser's port bow, six hostile frigates swarmed around one of their human opposite numbers. Two of them were blown apart by plasma fire from the surrounding Human vessels, but they managed to wear down their target's shields regardless. Pumping shot after shot into the now-unshielded frigate's hull, the alien warships finally scored their first kill, as the vessel's elerium core went critical. One of the enemy mass driver rounds must have punched clean through said core, as the emergency countermeasures were unable to prevent the dead Human frigate from going up in a bright, blue-white fireball.

The _Okhotsk,_ however, had its own problem to face, as one of the two remaining alien battleships opened fire on it, its five escorting cruisers doing the same. The human cruiser's hull strained as it attempted to evade, sending wave after wave of blue-green plasma at the enemy as it did so, but still failing to evade the bulk of the enemy fire. Three shots, one from the alien battleship and two from the hostile cruisers, slammed into the _Okhotsk'_ s shields.

"Prow shields at sixty percent." The damage control officer reported.

"Return fire. Focus on the cruisers first." Jacob ordered, and in response, two full broadsides flew forward from the heavy cruiser's guns, bracketing the nearest alien that dared strike it.

* * *

Human warships were built in a four-sided wedge shape, with their spinal fusion lance at its point, while gun turrets covered its angular hull. This arrangement allowed human ships to bring both broadsides to bear on any enemy directly in front of it, at the cost of rearward-facing armament. Situated within this cone of death, the alien cruiser stood no chance. Its shields sparked, deflecting the first few plasma bolts, but the rest tore through its inadequate armor, losing cohesion within the ship and detonating in bursts of blue-white light.

However, somehow, the alien cruiser still had some fight left in it, even as its atmosphere leaked into the void, and fires blazed perilously close to its mass effect core. Before a second volley could reduce it to molten slag, the alien cruiser fired one last shot. The tungsten projectile screamed through the void, aimed not at the _Okhotsk,_ but at a nearby frigate. The smaller ship's shields had been stripped away by the attacks of three Turian frigates, and while those three ships had been torn apart by return fire before they could do too much damage to the ship itself, they left it open for the cruiser's final shot.

Whether it was due to sheer dumb luck or the skill of the alien gunners, the tungsten slug slammed directly into the barrel of the frigate's fusion lance. Threading the needle, it punched through layer upon layer of bulkheads before puncturing the atmosphere storage unit. The resulting explosion of air within the ship ignited fires within the ruined sections, as flammable materials and heated conduits were given the oxygen they needed to ignite.

However, the damaged frigate was far from destroyed, and even as two of its alien counterparts moved in to finish the job, it fought back, fighting its enemies with plasma while its crew fought the fires onboard.

Three minutes after that fateful impact, however, the frigate's fight was brought to an end, as one of the two remaining alien battleships scored a direct hit. The blow tore the smaller warship in two, sending the prow spinning off into space, while the stern became a slowly expanding debris cloud.

One by one, the Human fleet was torn apart. The frigates fell first, either to wolf packs of their alien counterparts, or to concentrated fire from larger enemy ships. Then, the fleet's two light cruisers, _Julius Caesar_ and _Aurora,_ were lost, the first to the concentrated fire of six hostile cruisers, while the second was lost to a ramming attack from a crippled alien frigate. Finally, only the _Okhotsk_ was left, its shields long gone, and its thick lilium armor covered in pockmarks from frigate-caliber guns. Even then, its plasma cannons blazed away in defiance of its fate, as it dueled no less than four cruisers, as well as both alien battleships.

On the Turian side, every single gun, from the smallest broadside cannon to the mightiest spinal gun, was focused on the last Human warship. Smaller, lower velocity slugs simply ricocheted off its armor, but the larger ones found purchase, opening holes in the vessel's thick armor and creating weak points where the smaller guns were then focused.

At approximately 0823 hours, an internal explosion gutted the human heavy cruiser, as a plasma magazine was ruptured by a lucky hit. The blast tore away strips of armor, and sent entire turrets careening away into space, while the cruiser listed in the opposite direction, Newton's third law throwing it off course. This was a blessing in disguise, however, as a slug from a Turian dreadnought narrowly missed its target.

Finishing one of the nearby Turian cruisers, the _Okhotsk_ 's guns swiveled around, now focusing fire on the nearest Turian dreadnought. The first barrage, now greatly diminished in magnitude, was deflected by kinetic barriers. The second volley broke through them, and even as the other Turian dreadnought fired a killing shot into the heavy cruiser's wounded side, the third volley gutted the kilometer long vessel.

Moments later, the _XCS Okhotsk_ went up in a ball of blue-white fire, as the _Shield of Palaven'_ s own shot met its mark. In a last show of defiance, shrapnel from the exploding ship was propelled into one of the nearby Turian frigates, causing the vessel's kinetic barriers to flash.

At 0841 hours, standard Shanxi time, the First Naval Battle of Shanxi came to an end, with the Turian Hierarchy victorious, albeit at a heavy price. On the human side, one heavy cruiser, two light cruisers and seventeen frigates had been lost, along with nearly ten thousand crew. However, they had exacted a heavy price from their opponents. On the Turian side, one dreadnought was destroyed, with another crippled and the third sustaining moderate damage. Of the two hundred and ten cruisers that had entered the battle, sixty two were lost, and nearly a hundred more were crippled or heavily damaged. However, it was the frigates that had suffered the worst. Three hundred of the small, fast vessels had entered the system, eighty one remained, all of them badly damaged. Over one hundred thousand Turian sailors had perished during the action, the human weapons leaving them with little time to abandon ship.

Surviving frigates searched through the wreckage for survivors, while cruisers approached their crippled brethren, aiding with damage control or evacuation as necessary. Badly burnt Turian sailors were extracted from the blazing hull of the crippled dreadnought _Spirit of Epyrus,_ as damage control teams from three separate ships boarded the damaged hulk, desperately trying to contain the fires and salvage the once-mighty warship. However, their valiant efforts were in vain, as one Citadel standard hour after the _Okhotsk_ 's destruction, an internal explosion ruptured the vessel's mass effect core. Those still onboard were forced to evacuate as the ship began to shake itself apart, the core's safety measures being too badly damaged to prevent a catastrophic series of mass effect field fluctuations. Several minutes later, the dreadnought went up in a blinding flash of light.

* * *

General Desolas Arterius watched the _Spirit of Epyrus_ die from the bridge of his own dreadnought, a feeling of abject dread gripping his heart. Twenty ships had done this to his mighty armada. The battle was won, sure, but the damage his surviving ships had sustained meant that the Seventh fleet would be out of action for a year at the very least, to say nothing of the time and resources required to replenish its numbers.

Still, the naval battle was won, meaning that the invasion of the alien world could now begin.

"General? What are our orders?" Desolas turned at the quiet voice. His adjutant had spoken, the young Turian staring horrified at the system display.

"Send a frigate not on damage control duty through the relay and alert the army. It's their turn now. As for the rest of our ships, move them into position around the system's garden world and scan it. If it is uninhabited, I want our ships to start searching the other worlds for settlements. However, I want the 32nd Frigate Squadron to remain behind in the debris field, both to continue search and rescue and to begin salvaging what's left of the alien ships. Some of those wrecks look relatively intact and may have survivors onboard. In addition, I want samples of their armor plate sent back to Palaven as soon as possible, to say nothing of any intact computers. However, I want highest priority given to the alien weapon systems. Any intact alien weapons are to be sent through the relay to Palaven immediately. Understood?" Desolas ordered after a few moments' thought.

"Yes sir." The adjutant saluted, and the survivors of the Turian Seventh Fleet moved to obey. The battle may have been over, but the war had only just begun.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright, here it is! Let me know what you think of the battle scene in particular, because I am still getting used to writing sci-fi again, and I'm not sure if I've gotten it right. However, I do think I've done much better than the equivalent scene in the original When Civilizations Meet, where a similar number of Human ships kicked the asses of ten thousand Turian warships while invoking the 'Frigates the size of Dreadnoughts' trope and suffering no casualties.**

 **Now, my sources indicate that the Turian navy is composed of twenty thousand fighting ships, divided into thirty two fleets. The Turians possess less than 37 dreadnoughts, although they are not distributed evenly among its fleets. In addition to these twenty thousand warships, the Turians also possess a significantly larger logistical fleet behind it, supporting the largest military power in Citadel space. Of course, this number does not include the navies of the Turian client races.**

 **As usual, feel free to point out any contradictions between this and the previous chapters, so that I may make corrections. I do hope you all have enjoyed this latest update, and that my future updates are similarly good.**

 **EDIT: I have been receiving a lot of reviews to the effect of 'Why did the humans open fire on the Turians without even bothering to listen to their transmission?'**

 **As answering each one individually would be tedious, I will put an answer below.**

 **What the humans know about the Ethereal Empire is limited, but they do know that they have been out and conquering for AT LEAST sixty-five million years, as that was when the Aquatoids crash-landed on Earth whilst fleeing from Ethereal fleets. They also know from captured data that the Ethereal empire spans the entire galaxy. Given this time scale, the thought of there being truly independent alien races out there never crossed Admiral Cohn's mind, simply because he, and most of the rest of humanity, just didn't think it was possible. In addition, while the Ethereals generally avoided relay worlds, that did not stop them from attacking Earth, which had the Charon relay in-system. Therefore, they could not discount the possibility of there being Ethereals or Ethereal collaborators on the relay road. I hope this answer is satisfactory.**

 **EDIT NUMBER TWO: This fic also has a forum! Imagine that! Anyway, in response to a review from Napster153 that I am unfortunately unable to respond to in person, I am currently working on a form for creating original regiments in the THW-verse. Once it is finished, all you have to do is fill it out and post the results on the forums. I will then look it over, and at the very least, I will give you my thoughts on it. Impress me enough, and your regiment will become part of this fic's canon! At the moment, a prototype of this form has been created, and will soon be posted on the forums, although I would like some feedback on it. Forum link should be available via my public profile, and if you cannot find it there, feel free to PM me and I will send it to you.**


	4. Chapter 2: Planetfall

**A/N: Not really sure about this chapter, but I think it's good enough for release. Mostly reads from the Turian perspective, as I thought that would make for a bit more drama.**

 **Also, SHEN'S LAST GIFT IS HERE! EVEN FROM THE DEAD, DR. RAYMOND 'SANTA CLAUS' SHEN DELIVERS MECS AND MINIGUNS TO ALL THE GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS! Also, I think those weird ADVENT robot things from the trailer are secretly Ultron.**

* * *

" _Shanxi? Yes, I fought there... It was a disaster from start to finish, but in hindsight I think it was necessary, given what lay ahead."_ \- Sergeant Talkus Strekian, Taetrus 3rd Regiment.

 **Chapter 2: Planetfall**

 **Shanxi System, Space**

Terik Kasternan floated through the empty void of space, the only noise in his ears being that of air hissing through his helmet as he breathed. Up ahead loomed the burnt-out hulk of one of the alien cruisers, floating dead in the middle of the void, surrounded by a halo of debris. It took six Turian cruisers to take the ship out of action, but even under concentrated fire the ship had been able to destroy two of its assailants before finally falling silent.

However, there had been no catastrophic internal explosion that killed its crew, and the ship was mostly intact. That was why Terik had been ordered to board the hulk alongside nearly two hundred other Turian marines. A shuttle had brought them close, but with the ship lacking a suitable landing point, the marines had to make the last leg of the journey without it.

Terik glanced behind him, just in time to see the system's Mass Relay flash, as transports filled with three Turian army regiments, each an army in its own right, began to enter the system. Turning back to the task at hand, he quickly re-oriented himself and touched down on the wreck's outer hull with an inaudible sound. The rest of his squad touched down around him, their boots magnetizing themselves to the hull plate. Pulling his weapon from his back, Terik got to work.

"Allright, here we are. Sarol, cut us an opening. Save the excess plate, they want armor samples." He ordered, whispering even though he knew it wouldn't make a difference in cold vacuum. The other Turian nodded and knelt down, activating his plasma torch as he did so. Terik had seen combat engineers cut through thick bulkheads with their plasma torches in a manner of minutes, but as time ticked past, he began to grow impatient.

"What's taking so long?" He demanded after a quick glance at his helmet clock.

"This damned metal is almost impossible to cut! If we didn't need samples, I'd recommend just looking for a hole made by one of our cruisers." The engineer replied, frustration clear in his voice.

"How hard can it be?" One of the other men in the squad spoke up.

"This stuff can take a ridiculous amount of heat, and given the thickness of the plate, cutting through is almost impossible. I suggest we just take samples and go find a hole in the hull." The engineer replied.

"Fine. Take what samples we need, then let's go find ourselves a hull breach." Terik ordered, and several minutes later, the engineer stood up, samples secured in a pack on his hip.

"Finally. Let's go." With those words, the squad moved out. Fortunately, a hull breach was easy to find. It was a relatively narrow hole, probably caused by a cruiser's secondary armament, and so the squad was forced to move through one by one, weapons at the ready.

"Keep alert, there could be survivors lurking about." Terik said, looking around, his eyes coming to rest on a corpse floating just above the floor.

"Is that-" One of the younger members of the squad began.

"Yes. It is." Terik replied, floating over to the corpse. It was clad in some kind of vaccum-sealed suit, although the large visor was shattered, several transparent shards mingling with frozen red droplets in the space above the alien's head. A tap to the side of his helmet activated Terik's flashlight, and he stared into the creature's dead face, curiosity overcoming caution.

Pink skin, not dissimilar to that of an Asari. Short, close-cropped fur peeking out from the top of the helmet, one nose, two eyes, although the lids were shut tight... All the facial features were remarkably similar to that of an Asari, save for that strange fur. A few seconds were spent inspecting the mangled visage of his dead foe, before he moved on to the rest of the body.

The alien was clearly a biped, almost identical in body form to an Asari, down to the five fingers on its hands. A chunk had been blown out of the creature's hip, nearly severing its right leg entirely, and more red droplets hung frozen around the gruesome wound. The wound didn't look like something shrapnel would cause though... It was almost as if something had exploded after coming into contact with the creature's body.

"Can we take the body as a sample?" Terik asked after a few more moments of inspection.

"Afraid not. Too large to carry." The engineer replied.

"A shame. The scientists back at home would kill for a chance to inspect a specimen like this." Terik replied, before he paused, and looked over the alien's suit once more. Upon closer inspection, it looked as though the suit had been punctured in several points, with several nasty looking pieces of shrapnel protruding from the creature's chest, while other areas looked as though they had been punctured, and then somehow resealed.

"Hmm..." Pulling out his combat knife, he pinned the body against the nearest bulkhead and giving it a testing stab in a relatively intact area of the suit. Then, he attempted to remove the blade... and failed. The suit's automated sealing systems had clamped shut around his knife, locking it firmly in place.

"Sir?" The engineer asked.

"Are you sure we can't take this body? If nothing else, the suit's vacuum seals are leagues ahead of anything we've got." Tarik asked.

"Unless you want us to pull out here and now, it will only hinder us. We can come back on our way out and take it then, but not now." The engineer replied, studying the suit.

"Acceptable. Let's move. Keep your eyes open, anything interesting could prove valuable." Terik ordered, and led his squad deeper into the wreck.

Progress was slow, as the squad paused to inspect every corpse. None were anywhere near as intact as the first corpse, their suits ripped to worthless fragments by unknown explosions, and the bodies within usually took the form of frozen red mist with occasional bones and body parts floating among them.

Hours later, Terik was close to giving up. No sign of any useful technology was present in the wreck, aside from the occasional fragment that was quickly caught and pocketed, there was nothing. That was when a tremor shook the ship.

"What was that?" One of the marines spoke up.

"An explosion. Relatively close too. Looks like we have something to investigate." Terik growled, the squad already moving in the direction of the blast. A few minutes passed before the soldier in front of Terik peeked around a corner... And promptly drew his head back as a stream of green fire flew past, leaving glowing craters in the bulkhead they hit.

"CONTACT! HOSTILE CONTACT!" The marine screamed, as more hostile weapons fire flashed through the corridor.

"They're suppressing us! Sylon, Arien, stay here. The rest of you, on me! We're going to find a way around!" Terik ordered, and his squad obeyed. He then switched to radio, in an attempt to contact the rest of the marines within the wreckage.

"Attention all squads, this is Sergeant Kasternan, I have made contact with hostile alien forces! Requesting immediate support!"

The only response to his call for aid was static.

"Damn, comms are out." He growled as he led his squad through the labyrinthine corridors of the alien vessel. After several minutes, he found a gap in the wall, likely caused by a secondary explosion. Peering through it, he quickly spotted the green flares of alien weapons fire. Occasionally, he would see sparks as Sylon and Arien returned fire, the tiny grains of tungsten they fired invisible in the void.

The aliens were all wearing the same suits that Terik had seen on the corpse near his squad's entry point. Six of them had taken cover, clutching pistols in their hands. Behind them, four more aliens were clustered around an immense cylinder of some sort, that glowed with an eerie green light. Terik's eyes widened as he realized what these aliens were doing.

"They're trying to scuttle the ship! Take them down, now! Aim for the heads!" Terik ordered, taking aim and opening fire. His shots went low, and struck the alien in the torso. He had clearly hurt it, but the suit sealed off before decompression could set in. The wounded alien took cover behind the cylinder, while two others opened fire on Terik's position. One shot met its mark, and Terik's kinetic barriers flashed and failed. He ducked down before the follow up shot could take off his head. The marine beside him wasn't so lucky, and after his barriers fell, a blue-green bolt took the soldier's head clean off.

"With weapons like that, our invasion force is going to be slaughtered!" The engineer exclaimed.

"Even more reason to capture one. Does anyone here have a cable gun?" Terik demanded. In response, the engineer pulled one out.

"Good. Pull the nearest enemy out of cover. I want one of those guns, now! I'll cover you!" Terik ordered, before peeking out of cover and firing a long burst from his rifle. As luck would have it, one shot slammed into his target's head, punching through the unshielded visor and into the alien's brain. The alien corpse tumbled head over heels into a nearby hole, ricocheting off the walls until it was out of sight. Had Terik looked a little longer, he would have noticed the green flash, but as it was, his attention had been drawn by the sight of his engineer firing his cable gun. The spike, designed to punch through metal plates and hard rock, penetrated the alien's suit with ease, before being adhered into place by advanced sealing systems. Before the alien knew what had hit him, he was yanked out of cover and into Terik's waiting fist.

The alien attempted to struggle, but the engineer was easily able to wrestle the gun from its hand. Too easily...

Terik gasped as he realized what was about to happen, but it was too late. The engineer had already aimed the gun at the alien, clutching it tightly with both hands. Then, in a flash of green light, the engineer's hands disappeared, pressurized blue blood spraying from the stumps. The screaming marine was sent spinning away, but Terik had his own problems to worry about. Already, the captured alien had recovered from its recent ordeal, and had leaped towards him, a strange, glowing knife in its hand. Terik caught the blade moments before it could plunge into his throat, before retaliating with a kick to the creature's torso, aiming for the cable spike that remained embedded in the creature's suit.

The two of them struggle for several long moments, but neither of them emerged victorious. As Terik managed to push the creature off him, the nearby scuttling charges went off, and everything went white.

* * *

Desolas watched sadly from the bridge as the Marine shuttles made their way back, most of them with empty transport compartments. Aside from a few scraps of hull plating, nothing had been recovered from the alien wreck before it went up in flames.

"Sir, all shuttles have been recovered." His adjutant spoke up from his side.

"Good. Have all recovered samples sent back on the first ship through the relay. Has my report to Palaven been sent yet?"

"It has, sir. Hopefully it will be enough to convince the Council to provide additional support."

"We can always hope. What about the garden world? Have our ships located any sign of inhabitants?" Desolas asked.

"They have located a small settlement on the world's northern hemisphere, but aside from that, nothing." The information caused Desolas to scowl.

"Looks like this is just a colony world. Their homeworld is elsewhere. I want our fleet to take up geosynchronous orbit above the alien settlement, orient for tactical orbital bombardment." The admiral ordered.

"The orbital bombardment of garden worlds is against the Citadel Conventions." The adjutant pointed out.

"I know. Hopefully, we can resolve this without resorting to orbital strikes, but if it becomes necessary, I want to be ready."

"Understood, sir."

The next few hours were spent in tense silence, as the remnants of the Seventh Fleet escorted the three Turian army regiments into orbit of the alien world. The plan for assault was deceptively simple.

The Taetrus Third Regiment would land in the mountains north of the settlement, while the Palaven Nineteenth would land in the jungle to the south. Finally, the Palaven Eighth regiment, along with an entire company of Blackwatch, would come down on top of the city itself. The Eighth would buy time for the other two regiments to consolidate and launch their own assaults, while doing their best to destroy what defenses the settlement had surrounding it.

At 1900 Hours, Shanxi Time, the Turian assault began, as hundreds of dropships, troop transports, shuttles and gunships started their descent to the planet's surface, under the watchful eyes of the Turian fleet.

* * *

"General, sensors have picked up the enemy invaders. They are moving in three large groups, soft approach. One is heading north, another south, and the last is coming down on top of us. Formation density is high."

General Patrick Williams nodded as his aide spoke, although the warning was unnecessary. He could already see the ships coming down on the Shanxi Hologlobe, moving slowly, as if taunting him about his lack of true orbital defenses.

"Three prongs? Damn, how many Skysweeper missiles do we have?" He asked.

"Two, sir. We have the warhead for a third, but that is for the Hara-Kiri Protocol." The aide replied.

"I see. Fire both missiles, one into the north force, and the other into their central force. Order the men to prepare for a meteor shower." The general said, a grin on his scarred face.

"Yes sir!" The aide replied, before relaying the order to all relevant personnel. Up above the subterranean command bunker, a solitary missile launcher raised itself towards the sky. Of its sixty-four cells, only two were filled, and those were about to empty. One after the other, two AAM-44 Skysweeper missiles ascended into the air. To an observer on the ground, they appeared as little more than two innocuous green dots, but appearances were deceiving.

Three minutes after launch, the troops on the grounds saw the flash as the missile's antimatter warhead detonated, and heard the distant rumble of the first blast wave. One minute later, a second flash came in, this time from the north.

* * *

Saren Arterius looked around the small hold of the dropship, trying to squash down the gnawing fear that came with going into combat. There was always fear, even for the most implacable Turian. However, the Blackwatch had trained him to suppress that fear, and he did so easily enough.

He was the only youth in a transport full of grizzled veterans, the FNG among the elites. Every single one of the Turians within the dropship had seen a frightening amount of action, except for him. Aside from a few minor skirmishes against pirates, he had no combat experience.

"Alright men, you know our orders. Our job is to secure the city, while the other two regiments are setting up for their own approaches on the ground... I say fuck that! We are the Turian Blackwatch, and we have an entire regiment at our backs! Let the other two regiments watch and learn, as we take this colony on our own! For Palaven and Primarch!" The grizzled squad leader spoke up, breaking the tense silence of the dropship.

"For Palaven and Primar-!" The assembled Blackwatch began, but the sound of alarms cut them off. Then, moments later, a loud 'CRACK!' resounded through the troop bay, deafening the soldiers within. The dropship began to spin, and for a moment, Saren blacked out, as G-forces drove the blood out of his head.

"Spirits! What was that?" He dimly heard someone yell, barely audible over the ringing in his ears and the blaring of alarms.

"That was a nuclear detonation! The aliens just detonated a nuke in the middle of our formation!" Someone else shouted out in reply. Then, Saren lost consciousness.

The dropship was no longer spinning when Saren regained consciousness.

"-ke up! HEY! New guy! WAKE UP!" Someone was shouting.

"What's going on?" He groaned, sitting up and checking his gear. Fortunately, everything was still clamped securely in place.

"We're coming in for a landing! The 314s are throwing up significant Anti-Air fire, but nothing we can't overcome." The other Turian replied... Moments before alarms began to blare again.

"Shit, incoming missile! Brace for evasive maneuvers!" The pilot spoke up, panic in his voice. Saren had barely processed the information before the missile hit, sending the dropship into another spin.

"Our right wing is gone! We're going down! Brace for impact! Repeat, we are going down! Brace for impact!" The pilot shouted. Then, the impact came, and everything went black.

* * *

When Saren awoke, it was to a deathly silence. He was in the air, suspended by his harness over the rest of the dropship. His entire body hurt, and he knew that several of his plates were cracked. However, a few cracked plates were the least of his worries, as he looked out over the rest of the dropship's occupants. Evidently, everyone on the other side of the ship was probably dead. He reached for his harness emergency release lever, but a sound on the other side of the door caused him to freeze. Thinking fast, he quickly forced his body to go limp. He hung from the harness like a corpse, as the dropship exit ramp was breached from the outside. Two figures moved in, alien weapons in their hands.

Saren's blood ran cold as one of the two aliens looked directly at him, its face hidden behind a helmet visor. However, after a few moments, the alien looked away, proceeding deeper into the ship, where it stacked up with its partner along the cockpit door. Then, at an inaudible signal, the two aliens breached the door. Evidently, the pilot had survived, because the familiar sound of a service pistol firing sounded out as soon as the door opened. One of the aliens flashed as their shields absorbed a hit, but one wounded pilot could not possibly hold off two alien soldiers, and several seconds later, the firefight was over.

One of the aliens gestured something, and the two figures left the dropship. For a long time, Saren didn't dare move. His breaths were long and slow, but his heart was pounding.

However, when no new sounds came from the outside, Saren slowly reached for his pistol with one hand, while his other came to rest on his harness' emergency release lever. When nothing happened, he drew his pistol, pointing it towards the entrance while he slowly depressed the lever.

Fortunately, the harness was not jammed, and the release was smooth and almost soundless. Saren's armored body dropped to the ground, landing on top of one of the less fortunate Blackwatch members at the bottom of the ship. Looking outside, he saw that there were no readily apparent threats, so he quickly walked around, checking the rest of the bodies for any signs of life, hoping that some of them had also been simply playing dead. However, that hope was in vain.

Once he was certain that he was the sole survivor of his Blackwatch team, Saren turned his mind to the next issue. He could grieve later, when he was no longer in danger. Holstering his pistol, he drew his assault rifle, and checked to make sure his grenades and sniper rifle were securely in place. Finally, he grabbed a first-aid kit from the team's medic, who lay dead beside the cockpit door. He was not trained in field medicine, but some of the kit's contents would definitely come in handy regardless.

Then, equipment in hand, he peeked out of the hole in the dropship's exit ramp. Slowly, cautiously, he scanned his surroundings, weapon at the ready. The dropship had come down on top of a low building, and was now suspended precariously in the gap between that building and its neighbor. Weapons fire, both familiar and alien, echoed through the city, as the survivors of the Palaven Eighth fought desperately for their lives against alien opponents. Dropping into a prone position, Saren crawled out of the dropship, peeking out over the rooftop just in time to see four aliens, the same team that had inspected his dropship, exit the building, stepping right into a hail of weapons fire. Looking towards the source, Saren spotted a squad of Turians just down the road, weapons blazing.

The alien shields flashed as they ran for cover, returning fire as they did so, sending a flurry of scarlet beams and green bolts downrange. One of the aliens stayed in the open long enough for its shields to be overwhelmed, and Saren saw it stumble as a tungsten grain passed through its leg. However, the alien made it to cover regardless, and continued firing, seemingly oblivious to its injury. However, its shields were still down, and its back was to Saren. Drawing his sniper rifle, Saren took aim and fired. The Kryalith sniper rifle in his hands barked once, and sent a tungsten grain into the unshielded alien's head, killing it. Moments later, Saren ducked down as red light streaked over his position.

Down below him, he heard one of the aliens enter the building, and he quickly twisted around, pulling out his assault rifle just as a trapdoor in the roof opened up. Then, a grenade came flying out, coming to rest several feet away. Then, it burst with a blinding light. His ears ringing from the flashbang blast, Saren desperately sprayed fire in what he hoped was the direction of the hatch.

Slowly, he regained his vision, and saw that he was indeed firing in the right direction. No more grenades flew through the hatch, so Saren continued to fire, preventing any advance onto the roof. It seemed as though the alien was content to wait him out, but fortunately for him, Saren's gun had a very, very large supply of ammunition. He could keep firing nonstop for days before his gun would run dry.

Of course, he didn't have to wait that long, as down in the streets, the Turian force was able to overwhelm the outnumbered aliens and push into the building. There was a short exchange of fire below, and then a Turian voice spoke up.

"Whoever is up there, we're friendly! I'm coming up, so don't shoot!"

Saren smiled as, seconds later, a Turian helmet popped into view.

"It's good to see that we're not the only ones left in this damned city." The newcomer spoke as he clambered onto the roof.

"I'm just glad that I'm not alone." Saren replied, turning around and surveying the street once more.

"So, what unit are you with?" The Turian asked.

"Saren Arterius, Blackwatch." He replied.

"Blackwatch... Where's the rest of your squad?" In response, Saren gestured to the dropship.

"In there. They... They didn't survive the crash." He murmured.

"Damn... For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Private Iorik Reckis, Palaven Eighth Regiment, Second Company. The rest of us are downstairs." The news caused Saren to blink in shock.

"Wait, there's an entire company down there?" He asked.

"What's left of it. Our ship was damaged in the nuclear blast, and between the crash landing and the aliens, not many of us are still alive." Iorik replied.

"Who's your commanding officer?" Saren asked. The reply was cut off by a sharp whistle from above. Saren looked up just in time to see a glowing green orb slam into the roof of the building, punching through into the building's interior before exploding. Then, Saren was falling, as the roof gave way beneath him. As the building collapsed, he heard weapons firing all around, as alien soldiers moved out to surround the building, pouring green and red into the collapsing structure. Saren tried to return fire, but only got off a short burst before Iorik screamed and fell, collapsing onto Saren, half of his chest missing. The rifle went spinning out of Saren's hands, and he lay still. The aliens were little more than indistinct silhouettes, the dust kicked up by the building's collapse providing an impromptu smokescreen.

For the second time that day, Saren played dead, his armor, damaged in the crash, making him look like another battered corpse. After a long minute, the firing stopped, and alien soldiers moved cautiously into the wreckage. For a moment, Saren considered taking a shot, but self preservation pushed that thought aside. The Turian anthem may have told its people to die for the cause, but if there was nobody willing to live for a cause, then it might as well not exist.

A few other Turians thought differently, and attempted to reach for weapons. This earned them a quick burst from an alien gun, stilling them forever. The aliens continued to search through the wreckage, shooting anything that moved and occasionally searching a body, before finally, one of them barked an order and the squad left, leaving Saren alone once more.

For a while, Saren lay in the wreckage, pinned beneath Iorik's corpse, before he finally moved, pushing the soldier's body off him. Crawling through the ruined building, he grabbed his rifle once more. Then, in the corner of his eye, he spotted movement. Turning towards it, he saw a Turian soldier pinned beneath some rubble frantically waving to get his attention.

Crawling over to him, Saren saw that the bottom of the soldier's helmet was burnt black, making it look as though he had been shot in the throat.

"My helmet comms are gone, but I am alright." The pinned soldier said as Saren pushed the chunk of rubble off him. As he did so, Saren noticed the rank insignia on the soldier's left pauldron.

"Thanks for the help. I am sergeant Tarkus Velarian. Palaven Eighth, Second Company." The soldier, Tarkus, spoke, cradling his left hand.

"Saren Arterius, Blackwatch." Saren replied.

"Blackwatch? My odds of survival just got significantly higher." Tarkus tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into a pained, wheezing cough.

"Do you know of any nearby units we could link up with?" Saren asked.

"No. Regimental command is gone, and most of our communications gear was left behind on the ship. When coupled with enemy ECM, my comms were useless, even before they got shot off. It's a mess out there... Half our regiment got taken out in the crash, and that number includes practically all our armor. Many of the survivors got shot up as they tried to get out of their ships... This settlement is built like a deathtrap, almost as if it was intended to be a battlefield. Any clear landing zones are ringed with machine gun nests, and anyone who tries to get out of their ships is massacred."

"What about the rest of your company?"

"You're looking at it. As far as I know, I AM the second company, unless there are more survivors buried here."

"Damn... Any idea of what to do?" Saren asked, getting an odd look.

"I thought you were the one with the plan." Tarkus stated.

"This is my first real battle, and my squad died before they could get out of the dropship. They would have had a plan, but me?" Saren laughed wryly. Tarkus punched him in response.

"Fine. I'll lead." He growled, activating his omni-tool.

"This is an orbital map of the colony. Given the sorry state of our regiment, I would say that our mission is to get to a vantage point, try and map out the settlement's defenses, and then escape to the south to pass the information to the Palaven Nineteenth." Tarkus explained.

"That tower to the southeast might serve as a good vantage point." Saren said, pointing up to the tall, thin structure in question. As he looked on, a thin streak of green shot down from the tower, indicating the presence of a sniper.

"That will work. However, we have to get there first. Let's move." Tarkus ordered, and Saren nodded. The two of them crawled out of the wreckage, Saren clutching his sniper rifle, while Tarkus clutched his pistol in his uninjured hand.

"Cover me while I cross the street. We'll go through that house over there." Tarkus gestured at the building in question, a haven of safety on the other side of a street of death.

"Got it." Saren replied, wedging himself between two pieces of rubble that would give him passable covers from both directions.

Fortunately, no aliens came down the street, and Tarkus made it across in one piece. Then, it was his turn.

Looking both ways, Saren leaped to his feet and ran, head swiveling left and right, searching for any sign of hostiles. Just as he reached the door, he spotted them. Six aliens, moving along the edges of the street, sprinting from cover to cover.

"Six hostiles, on our right." Saren whispered, falling to the ground.

"Damn. Hopefully they haven't spotted us-" Tarkus fell prone as he spoke, a scarlet beam flying over his head.

"Shit! Get inside, now! We'll try to lose them in the building!" Tarkus ordered.

"Get the door open, I'll cover you!" Saren replied, squeezing off a short burst from his rifle. It met its mark, but glanced off the enemy's shields.

Tarkus grunted in response, before getting up and planting a breaching charge, while Saren drew fire.

"Breaching now!" As he spoke, the charge detonated.

"Go! Go! MOVE!" The Sergeant ordered, already obeying as he sprinted inside. Saren followed moments later, firing a few parting bursts.

"Check the other side, I'll rig the doorway with proximity charges." Saren spoke once they were inside.

"Got it." Tarkus replied, and the two of them got to work. As Tarkus searched for an exit, Saren pulled out several of his grenades, rigging them for proximity detonation before attaching them to the doorframe.

"Bad news. The only exit is on the roof. We will have to jump from building to building." Tarkus reported as he placed the last grenade.

"No choice then. To the roof." Saren replied, quickly spotting the ladder in question.

"I'll go up first, see if it's safe. You stay down here until I say it's clear." Tarkus ordered.

"Understood." Saren answered, ducking into a nearby room, keeping his gun trained on the doorway.

The first alien attempted to enter immediately, triggering the proximity grenades as he did so. Astonishingly, while the alien's barriers flashed and broke, the shower of shrapnel did not seem to faze it in the least. A long burst from Saren's rifle did what his grenades could not, six tungsten grains punching through the chest and head.

The second alien was smarter. It took cover on the other side of the doorway and opened fire from there. Saren's returning burst glanced off its shields, but the red beam fired by its weapon did not seem to suffer from the same drawback. Saren quickly ducked back into cover, a searing pain shooting through his left arm despite his undamaged kinetic barriers.

A quick glance down at his left arm confirmed the obvious. The alien weapon had somehow bypassed his kinetic barriers, punched through his armor, and took a chunk out of his left arm, rendering the limb useless. Fortunately, there wasn't much bleeding, as whatever the alien had shot him with had cauterized the wound.

"Saren! Roof is clear! Move up!" Tarkus' voice drifted down from the roof.

"I can't! I'm pinned down!" Saren replied, as more red light flew past the doorway, blocking his only way out.

"Understood. Move on my signal." Tarkus answered. Then, several seconds later, Saren heard a grenade go off right outside the doorway, and the sound of alien weapons fire stopped.

"MOVE!" Saren didn't think twice, and, cradling his wounded arm, he sprinted for the ladder, climbing as fast as possible until he was on the roof. Slamming the hatch closed behind him, he looked around to see Tarkus crawling away from the edge of the roof.

"Let's go! We won't be safe up here for long!" As if to underscore the sergeant's point, a streak of green light slammed into Saren's kinetic barriers, causing them to flash and die. Even weakened by the barrier, the shot was strong enough to char his chest armor black.

"Sniper! Get to cover!" Saren called out, leaping toward the lip of the roof, hunkering down behind it as Tarkus sprinted over to his side, a second shot just narrowly missing him.

"Are you any good with that sniper rifle of yours?" Tarkus asked, casting a nervous look at the hatch behind him.

"I think I can make the shot." Saren replied, removing the weapon from his back, unfolding it into active configuration.

"Understood. I'll try and draw his fire. Tell me when." Tarkus replied.

"NOW!" Saren replied, and Tarkus peeked out, ducking down as a green bolt soared through the space his head had just occupied. As Tarkus continued to draw fire, Saren pulled himself up, hissing in pain as he put weight on his wounded arm. Nonetheless, he took aim, centering the target in his sights. Then, he fired, and watched in dismay as the shot sparked off the alien sniper's shields.

However, the shot was enough to draw the alien's attention, and before Saren could follow up on his shot, he was ducking back into cover. However, the shot was not aimed for his head. Instead, it slammed into his cover, blasting a hole in the strange metal and causing his now-recharged kinetic barriers to spark as they deflected shrapnel.

Rolling over to his right, Saren barely avoided a second shot.

"I can't get through his shields!" He ground out, peeking out and ducking back down, avoiding another shot.

"He's focused on you now! Pass me the rifle!" Tarkus replied, and Saren slid the weapon over. The sergeant peeked over the roof and quickly fired, before ducking back down and sliding the weapon back over to Saren.

"I hit him, but his shields are still up!" The sergeant called out as a shot blew away his cover. Saren's response was to peek out and take aim, before firing once more, his shot once again glancing off the sniper's shields. However, rather than shoot back, the sniper ducked down.

"I think I took down his barriers! We have to move before they recharge!" Saren shouted, already vaulting over the edge of the roof. Tarkus was right behind him, and the two of them sprinted through a gap between two buildings and across the street, taking cover in the shadow of yet another identical house.

As alien pursuers climbed onto the roof they had just left, the two Turian soldiers breached and entered the alien structure, shutting and barricading the door behind them. For the moment, they were safe.

"We can't stay here for long." Tarkus pointed out the obvious.

"I know. Any ideas that will get us out of this mess?" Saren asked in response.

"None. Just get to the roof, jump down, and keep making our way to the sniper tower." Tarkus replied, gesturing towards the ladder. Saren nodded, but not before inspecting his surroundings.

The alien dwelling was small and dark, lit only by a few dim red lights. The two Turians stood in what was clearly some sort of dining room, with a table taking up the majority of the room's space. On the far wall sat a small kitchen.

There were three doors, two on one side of the room, and one more on the other. Curious, Saren walked up and opened the solitary door. He stepped inside a long, austere room. There was no furniture, and the only ornamentation was a large stone slab that wrapped around the room, taking up the entirety of all three walls. Alien writing covered the stone, and Saren realized that he was looking at some sort of family tree, the various alien writings being names of some sort.

Each name had either one or two pictures beside it, along with hundreds of alien medals, all of them glinting in the dim light of the room. As Saren looked on, he began to notice patterns in the tree. Branches that simply ended had only one picture, while all others had two. Curious, Saren inspected the pictures, his eyes coming to rest on the image of an alien, standing in front of a large banner, clad in some sort of dress uniform, its right hand raised in salute. The same sort of image repeated itself all along the wall. The alien in each one was different, but they all wore the dress uniform and stood in front of the same banner.

However, many of the names also had a second image beside the first. The aliens in those images were older, and the backgrounds varied. Some stood in front of strange, twisted landscapes, while others stood against trees, or in a few cases, on top of the bodies of strange creatures, smiling in victory. Many of the aliens in these pictures were scarred somehow. Some were missing eyes, or limbs, or simply had horrific burns and slashes covering portions of exposed skin.

As Saren looked on, he realized that the pictures were taken before and after the alien in question had left for and returned from some sort of war... And the ones without a second picture hadn't made it back alive.

"Saren, whatever it is, get out of there. We have to leave now!" Tarkus' voice broke through his thoughts.

"Understood. Let's go." He replied, turning and walking out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Once more, Saren headed up the ladder to the roof of an alien dwelling, crawling out towards the lip of the roof before any snipers could get a bead on him. Tarkus was right behind him.

Lifting his sniper rifle, Saren peered through his scope at the sniper tower. The alien in it was facing away from him, pouring fire into another section of the settlement. For a moment, he debated taking the shot, but he decided against it, knowing that such an action would only bring fire down on him.

"All clear. Let's move." He said after checking his surroundings, and leaped from one roof to another, sprinting across and landing on the edge of the street. Movement caught his eye, and for a moment, he thought he had run into another alien patrol. Then, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that the figures down the street were Turians.

"Tarkus! We've got friendlies over there!" He said as the sergeant dropped down beside him.

"Let's link up with them. More help couldn't hurt." Tarkus replied, stepping into view, only to duck back into cover, his kinetic barriers sparking from incoming fire.

"Watch your fire! We're friendly!" The sergeant shouted.

"You're not fooling anyone! I don't know what the Fukyus did to you, but you are not getting the drop on us!" The response was punctuated by another burst of fire.

"What are you talking about? We're on the same side!" Tarkus protested.

"That's what the last one said, before he blew himself up and took out the major!" The other Turian replied.

"What do you mean?" Tarkus asked.

"Like hell I'm telling you anything!" The soldier answered, before another voice spoke up, too soft for Saren to make out what it was saying. For a moment it conversed with the other Turian, before calling out to them.

"Alright, I want you to come out with your hands in the air. No sudden movements, or we open fire! I am not going to end up like the major!" Saren and Tarkus did as instructed, holstering their weapons and walking out into the open, hands raised.

"Selia, check them." As the officer spoke up, another Turian stood, and slowly, cautiously, approached them. She looked them over, patting them down for hidden explosives, before turning to the rest of her group.

"They're clean!"

"Alright. Get over here." The officer replied, and they obeyed, running over into cover.

"Sorry about that, but we couldn't take any chances." The officer said as they approached.

"What do you mean?" Saren asked.

"A few minutes ago, we encountered someone who claimed to be from the Third Company. He said he had learned something vital that he had to pass on to command. Then, as soon as he was up close with the major, he blew himself up! Took out a quarter of our company with some kind of Fukyu explosive!" The officer shook his head.

"Wait, Fukyu?" Tarkus asked.

"That's what these aliens call themselves. We were able to briefly gain custody of an alien, before its comrades drove us off. We tried to interrogate it, but we couldn't get through the language barrier, and when we tried some basic charades that's what we got out of it."

"Whatever they may call themselves, the fact remains that our regiment is being torn apart piece by piece. I'm all that's left of the second company, and Saren here was lucky enough to survive a crash that killed the rest of his Blackwatch squad. We have to get out of here if we want to live!" Tarkus replied.

"Get out? Who said anything about getting out! I don't know about the Second Company, but we of the First Company have no intention of running!" At that declaration, Saren looked around, and sure enough, one of the soldiers carried the standard of the Palaven Eighth Regiment on his back.

"If we die here, it will be for nothing! As of this moment, we are the only soldiers in the Turian Hierarchy with first-hand experience fighting the Fukyus, and if we die here, that experience dies with us! We need to get out and inform the other regiments!" Tarkus replied.

"No. Our orders were to take this colony, and I will not let anything stand in our way!" The officer replied. For a moment, Tarkus looked ready to hit the other officer, but he calmed himself with a visible exertion of will.

"Fine. I don't know about your company, but the two of us were heading for that sniper tower before we met you. We intended on taking out the sniper, and using it as a vantage point to scout out the enemy defenses. Saren is also a fair shot with his rifle, so he should be able to provide your group with sniper support if we can get him up there." The officer looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding.

"It's better than the aimless wandering we were doing after the Major died. Let's move." At that, the remnants of the First company, sixty three rifles strong, moved to obey.

* * *

The sniper tower was far from undefended. As Saren looked on from the rooftop, he watched nearly twenty Fukyu infantrymen patrol the area around the tower. Then, there was the sniper himself, who scanned the surrounding area for any sign of Turian movement.

"Remember, as soon as the Lieutenant gives the signal, we move." Tarkus said from beside him.

"What do we do once we're in the tower?" Saren asked.

"You snipe, I scout. Once I have the info we need, we swap out for one of the First Company snipers, and try to break out of the city." Saren nodded. For a few minutes, everything was quiet as the First Company moved into position. Then, as one, the Turians opened fire from all directions. Saren and Tarkus joined in, the sergeant firing long bursts from his rifle, while Saren scanned the area for the distinctive flash of a breaking shield. His rifle barked once as he found a suitable target, sending the Fukyu soldier to an early grave with a well placed shot.

"Move! Take out that sniper!" He heard the Lieutenant shout. Looking over at Tarkus, he saw the sergeant preparing to break cover. He folded his sniper rifle away, swapping it out for his assault rifle, and then, as one, the two of them leaped off the roof. As soon as they hit the ground, they sprinted for the nearest piece of cover, a simple raised plate of metal.

The colony was definitely built like a fortress, Saren mused, moments before the plate retracted into the ground, leaving him in the open.

"That's just unfair!" Tarkus groaned as he sprinted for the next plate, which retracted moments before they could reach it. Already, hastily aimed shots were streaking the air around them, and with no cover to speak of, the two of them dove to the ground, firing away as they did so. However, the Fukyus were being overwhelmed, and the Turians, outnumbering them three to one, quickly emerged victorious.

As the last Fukyu soldiers were pushed back, Saren and Tarkus arrived at the bottom of the sniper tower.

"I'll go first." Tarkus said as Saren reached for the ladder leading up to the sniper perch at the top. Then, the sergeant began to climb, Saren following right behind him. Soon, they reached the top, and only a thin plate of metal stood between them and the Fukyu sniper. Wedging his wounded arm between the ladder's rungs to keep him in place, Saren raised his rifle with his other hand and opened fire, hoping that his shots would be able to penetrate the tower floor and kill the alien on the other side.

Then, Tarkus opened the hatch, tossed a grenade through, and slammed it shut before return fire could take his head off. Moments later, the grenade went off, and Tarkus surged up through the hatch, Saren following right behind him. He clambered into the tower just in time to watch the Fukyu break through Tarkus' kinetic barriers with a pistol shot. He leaped towards the alien, causing its second shot to go awry. Nevertheless, it caught the sergeant in the hand, blowing the appendage clean off in a flash of green light. Saren's knife blow glanced off the alien's shields, and it took six shots of his pistol to break through them. A second knife strike skittered off the alien's armor, and the Fukyu took the opportunity to kick him off, leveling its pistol down at him, but before it could fire, Tarkus's pistol barked once, twice, three times. At such a close range, it punched right through the alien armor. As the sniper was thrown back, Saren rushed forward and sent the alien tumbling out of the tower.

"Are you alright?" He asked, turning to Tarkus, who was propped up against the edge of the tower, cradling the stump that once held his hand.

"Wound is cauterized... Doesn't hurt as much as I thought... Nerve endings probably burnt off..." The sergeant hissed out in between pained gasps.

"What do we do?" Saren asked.

"You snipe, I'll take pictures... The plan remains the same..." Tarkus replied. Then, Saren remembered the first-aid hit he had obtained. Handing it over to the wounded sergeant, he looked over the edge of the tower, pulling out his sniper rifle as he did so. Behind him, he heard Tarkus sigh as he injected a shot of painkillers into his wounded arm.

"This tower overlooks the whole colony. It's a perfect sniping positio-" Saren began, before ducking down as a flash of green flew up at him.

"SHIT! SNIPER!" He called out.

"I'll draw fire, you suppress him once you spot him!" Tarkus replied.

"Good. Draw fire on my mark... MARK!" Saren shouted, and Tarkus obliged, poking his head out of cover long enough to draw a shot. Then, Saren crouched up, following the barely visible trail of gas to its source, taking aim, and taking a shot. He missed, but it was enough to make the Fukyu sniper duck.

"Good work. I'll start photographing their defenses." Saren didn't move as Tarkus sat up once more, omni-tool glowing as he slowly scanned it across the southern edge of the settlement.

A slight movement drew Saren's eye, and his scope centered on what was clearly a Fukyu helmet, slowly rising up from behind a low wall. Smiling, Saren took the shot... And saw the helmet tumble back. He had just hit a decoy. His kinetic barriers sparked and died as the alien sniper hit its mark, the shot scorching the top of his helmet.

To his credit, Saren pivoted around and returned fire, his hastily aimed shot missing its mark, before he ducked down, avoiding a second shot.

His kinetic barriers began to recharge, but before they could finish, Tarkus shouted something that made his blood run cold.

"TANK! TANK INBOUND!" At that, Saren threw caution to the wind and looked up, quickly spotting the vehicle in question. His eyes widened as he saw its gun elevating, until it seemed to be aimed right between his eyes.

Then, it fired, and the tower fell. Both Turians screamed as they went down, until the sniper nest, or what was left of it, slammed into a nearby building, throwing the two of them out onto the roof. The last thing Saren saw before he blacked out was the tank moving into the open plaza, all guns blazing at the embattled First Company, lethal crimson beams scything down men with brutal efficiency.

He awoke to the sensation of being dragged across the ground. Opening his eyes, he saw that the tank was still in the plaza, blazing away with all it had. As he looked on, he saw a Turian raise a rocket launcher, but before the soldier could take the shot, a barrage of red beams tore through him, causing him to topple back, dead.

"Come on Saren, you're tougher than this! Wake up!" He heard Tarkus call from above him, the sergeant pulling him back, away from any immediate danger.

"How long was I out?" He asked, waving his uninjured hand to show that he was awake.

"Not long. A few seconds at most." Tarkus replied, letting him go and allowing him to roll over onto his belly.

"Good. What's the situation?" He asked.

"Horrible. The first company is getting slaughtered down there, and as much as I want to help them, it's more important that we get out of this hellhole and behind friendly lines. That way, we might actually make a difference." Tarkus replied, before something caught his eye. Saren followed the sergeant's line of sight, and spotted three members of the First Company attempting to retreat, one of them clutching the regimental standard. None of them lived for very long, a barrage of red light from the tank made sure of that.

"Don't even think about it." Saren cautioned as he saw Tarkus make ready to jump down into the street.

"That's my regiment's standard down there! I have to-" The sergeant began, before Saren interrupted him.

"What you have to do is stay down until the danger is gone. Then, we can retrieve the standard and get out of this spirits-damned place." He said.

"But-"

"I know. Rest assured, we will get that standard back. The last thing I want is for a regiment that holds men like you to be shamed over a flag." Saren replied. He understood the sense of urgency that gripped the sergeant. The regimental standard was representative of the regiment itself. In ancient times, before even the unification wars, losing the standard meant subjecting the survivors of the regiment to decimation and dishonor. While the barbaric practice of decimation had been outlawed by the Council, the loss of the regimental standard meant the loss of the regiment's history and honor. For all intents and purposes, the regiment could no longer claim to have done any of its past achievements, and its surviving members would be forever stigmatized by the rest of Turian society. During the Krogan rebellions, it was not unheard of for regiments to fight to the last man in defense of their standard, rather than retreat and leave the flag behind.

For a long time, Saren and Tarkus lay there, on the roof of one of many identical alien dwellings. Every few minutes, Saren risked a peek up above their cover, looking for any sign of Fukyu activity.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Saren gave the all clear, and the two of them scrambled out of cover, dropping down into the street below. Quickly, Tarkus sprinted into the open, snatched up the standard, and, tucking it under his wounded arm, ran back into cover. Once there, he strapped the flag to his back, and nodded to Saren.

"Let's go." He said, addressing someone who, for all he knew, could be the only other Turian alive in the entire settlement. Already, the sounds of weapons fire were dying down, as squads of Fukyu soldiers hunted down Turian survivors.

"It's about time. Let's get out of here." Saren replied, clutching his rifle in his good hand. His other arm still burned with pain, but that pain was the least of his worries. If he didn't get out of the settlement sooner, he would be dead.

Keeping an eye out for Fukyu patrols, Saren and Tarkus headed out into the open, beginning the slow, torturous journey south.

* * *

"Got anything?" Zaeed asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time since the aliens began their invasion.

"Negative. Whatever force came down in the south seems to be biding its time." The response was the same as always.

"Looks like the boys in the colony are just about done mopping up!" Vido exclaimed after a long pause. Zaeed listened for a moment, and realized that his friend was right. The sound of distant gunfire that had echoed through the colony had all but subsided. Occasionally, he would hear an occasional short exchange, but overall, the colony had descended into an eerie silence.

"Huh. And here I was thinking that the aliens were tough! If the militia in the city could take them out that easily, we shouldn't face much of a challenge!" Zaeed exclaimed in response.

"The aliens to the south were the ones that didn't get nuked, and we're part of the southern defensive line. Out of all the colony's defenders, our job will be the hardest." One of the soldiers in the trench spoke up.

"No shame in hoping." Vido muttered, causing the soldier to look up.

"Santiago, was it? You haven't gone through basic yet, have you?" The man asked.

"Afraid not. I was slated for next year's draft." Vido replied. The soldier laughed.

"That explains it then. Listen kid, the first rule of war is not to get your hopes up. Expect the worst, and prepare for something even worse, because when you're fighting the Ethereals, you will quickly find that hope is the first step on the road to disappointment." The soldier answered.

"Did you fight them before? The Ethereals, I mean?" Zaeed asked. The soldier nodded.

"I was blooded during the last Ethereal push at Armageddon, and I've seen hundreds of battles after that as part of the 65th Arcturus. Eventually, I lived through my fifteen year active tour and chose to get re-assigned here for garrison duty. It was supposed to be an easy posting, you know? No clearing out subterranean Chryssalid hives, no blazing away against swarms of drones thick enough to blot out a binary sun, no boarding actions against Ethereal battleships, where every second could be one where that ship gets hit and renders all your efforts moot... Just peace and quiet. Ha!" The soldier laughed bitterly.

"Listen Massani, you'll be pressed into active duty soon enough, so learn here, while you still can. From what I've been hearing over helmet comms, these aliens are pushovers compared to what I'm used to fighting, so take the opportunity to learn, and more importantly, be ready for any tricks the Ethereals decide to throw at us this time, because there is no fucking way that the pushovers in the colony proper represent the entirety of the alien forces." Zaeed could only nod as the soldier lectured him.

"Got it?" The man asked.

"Yes sir!" Zaeed replied.

"Good. Now keep your ears peeled. Usually, you'll hear the bastards long before you see them, and when we do... Let's show them just what Humanity can accomplish with its back against the wall! OORAH!" The man declared.

"OORAH!" The forty men and women in the trench chorused in response, raising their weapons high into the air. Soon, those weapons would be fired in anger, but for now, all their owners could do was wait for a target.

* * *

 **A/N: Here it is, the first installment of the land battle for Shanxi! Honestly, this chapter was more of a way to get back into writing ground combat than anything else, but I do hope it is good reading nonetheless. Saren got a few kills and survived, but I didn't make him tear through faceless human hordes like a CoD protagonist.**

 **Before anyone asks, the reasons for Saren's survival are twofold: Firstly, his training as a member of the Blackwatch allowed him to convincingly play dead. His armor and helmet meant that any signs of breathing or heartbeat are hidden beneath metal plates, and the way he dangled in the harness the first time made it look as though his neck had been snapped in the impact. The second time, he had a corpse on top of him, and was staying still where most other Turian soldiers in the ruins were writhing in pain, or desperately trying to free themselves from the collapsed house.**

 **Next up is Turian weaponry. To put it bluntly, the weaponry of Mass Effect is weak, even in comparison to modern military arms. A single bullet from an M16, while not necessarily immediately fatal, is devastating to get hit by. The bullet is a little less than a quarter inch in diameter, but the wound it causes is painful enough to put someone down, not to mention it can easily cause additional internal injuries due to hydrostatic shock. However, ammunition supply is a concern, as a person can only carry so many magazines, and it is easy to run out of ammo.**

 **Conversely, Turian guns have effectively infinite ammo supplies, capable of firing nonstop for days on end before having to replace their ammo block. However, this comes at the price of firepower. An ME rifle fires a shot about the size of a grain of sand, but it shoots it fast enough that it ionizes the air around it, creating the tracer effect you see ingame. However, what you do not see in game is stopping power. Stopping power is the ability of a weapon to incapacitate a target, preventing them from taking action, and you do not see that ingame. Even once kinetic barriers are down, you often have to hit even the weakest targets multiple times with no visible effect aside from maybe a slight stumble. A modern gun won't have that problem; one direct hit and the target is almost always down. This is likely due to the fact that, while the shot has a ton of kinetic energy thanks to its speed, the small size of the projectile means that it will not apply that kinetic energy as effectively, leading to less internal damage. This means that, while it can penetrate armor and walls with ease, the weapon cannot damage what is underneath that armor as effectively. You will literally have to snipe vital organs like the head or the heart in order to score immediate kill shots, and given how difficult it is to aim for and score headshots on a real battlefield, it's more than likely that you will simply end up blazing away into the chest of the enemy until something vital is hit.**

 **Of course, ME weapons still inflict tons of fatal wounds, but they lack in immediate killing and stopping power, which is what truly matters in a firefight. However, I can see why they were built that way. For all their drawbacks, they still have a very large amount of ammunition, and when the nearest ammunition depot could potentially be light years away, the last thing you want is your soldiers running dry on ammo mid-battle. So, ammunition stores were therefore increased at the expense of firepower, but given the nature of war in Mass Effect, I can see why that decision was made.**

 **Next we come to Human weapons in this fic. We saw two different forms in action in this chapter, namely lasers and plasma guns. We all know, or at least have some idea, of how a laser works. A tightly focused beam of light that can bypass kinetic barriers, burn through thin Lilium armor, and cauterizes its wounds. The wounds it inflicts are painful, but the cauterization means that many wounds that could have otherwise led to the target bleeding out are no longer as deadly. However, lasers are cheap to produce, can fire indefinitely so long as they do not overheat, and most importantly, they can completely bypass kinetic barriers.**

 **Then there are plasma guns. Much like their space-borne equivalents, they fire a jet of plasma, tightly wrapped in a cohesion field that prevents the heat and gas from dissipating. This field decays as the shot flies, and the shots travel significantly slower than their starship-based equivalents due to less powerful emitters. When the shot impacts something, like armor or flesh, the decay of the field accelerates exponentially, and when it decays completely, the plasma within explodes outward. This allows for the shot to punch through armor and skin, before exploding within the target for massive damage. One hit is usually fatal or crippling. However, shields and kinetic barriers disrupt the cohesion field early on, causing the gas to explode prematurely, outside of the target. This means that even Turian soldiers can usually take at least one hit unscathed thanks to their kinetic barriers. However, their titanium armor is pretty much useless against weapons designed to penetrate much stronger Ethereal armor, so while it can stop shrapnel, or a glancing hit, a direct hit will cut clean through it.**

 **Finally, I would like to address the nature of the Skysweeper missiles employed by General Williams. I based them off the real-life AIR-2 Genie unguided missile, which was a nuclear missile designed to be fired directly into bomber formations, detonate within, and destroy them en masse. The Skysweeper is merely a ground-launched, guided variant with a much, much stronger Elerium enhanced fusion warhead. Given how powerful nukes are in atmosphere, I can see one of these wreaking havoc on a dense Turian transport formation.**

 **On a side note, I got a guest review saying that "** _A nuclear bomb does not need any special modifications to be used in space as its triggered by a pure chemical reaction in a conventional one... A nuclear bomb in space damages ships in 2 ways. First the thermal shock of being that near the blast. Second is the over pressure wave, A ship is made for vacuum and suddenly being in pressure on one section and vacuum on another can rip the ship apart."_

 **This is simply not true. While a nuke does not need any special modifications to be triggered, it would need them to deal significant damage. In space, a nuclear weapon damages in two ways, namely via heat, which is very rapidly dissipated into the cold vacuum, and thus is useless unless the nuclear device is initiated at point-blank range, and through radiation. Given how much radiation there is in space, ships must be very well insulated against it, so while the radiation burst might disable communications and damage sensors, it will not deal significant damage to ships that, as a matter of course, must be shielded against stellar radiation. This means that, outside of point-blank range, an unmodified nuke in space is simply a powerful EMP. The presence of vacuum means that there is no air to carry a pressure wave, and thus the city-destroying blast fails to materialize.**

 **Finally, as a conclusion to this unusually long-winded Author's Note, I would like to address another, very interesting guest review from Napster153. I am indeed open to suggestions with regards to fanmade XCOM regiments, although for a submission to be considered, you will have to fill out the form I made. You can either find it on this fic's forum, the link of which is as follows (Sorry if it gets deleted):**

 **forum/The-Human-War-discussion/186926/**

 **or, barring that, you may simply PM me for the forum link and regimental creation form alike.**

 **I hope you all enjoyed this latest update!**


	5. Chapter 3: War on Shanxi

**A/N: My apologies for the long delay, but I've finally gotten it out...**

 **Have I ever told you how hard it is to constantly refer to someone by their title/characteristics because you couldn't find a good place to introduce their name?**

* * *

 _"There's only twenty of them up ahead, and I will not allow the history books to say that the fifth company ran from a mere twenty aliens! NOW CHARGE YOU P-" -_ Last words of Commander Urius Tarkwin, Palaven 19th Regiment Vanguard, transmitted over an open channel.

 **Chapter 3: War on Shanxi**

 **Shanxi System, Space**

The hardest part of command, Desolas mused, was enduring what he had just witnessed. He had been looking down at the alien world from one of the Shield of Palaven's bridge windows, and thus had seen the two bright flashes of nuclear warheads first-hand. Then, the comms were filled with the panicked cries of the survivors of the Tatetrus Third Regiment, while of the Palaven Eighth there was only ominous static. For several agonizing hours he waited, ordering scan after scan of the alien settlement, watching as the remnants of his brother's regiment fought to the death, knowing that whatever support he could give would end up doing as much harm as good.

"S-Sir? All fighting in the alien settlement has ceased." His adjutant's report caused his fist to clench, his talons deforming slightly as they were pushed against the plate of his palm.

"General?" His adjutant's repeated query finally brought him back to the present.

"Status of the Eighth?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"... No known survivors." The adjutant replied after a long pause.

"Very well. Friendly fire is no longer a concern, and the aliens' use of nuclear weapons will save us from the courts. Order all ships of the fifth and ninth cruiser squadrons to orient for orbital bombardment. Has General Orinia landed?" He asked, shoving any thoughts of his brother to the side. He would mourn when the enemy was crushed.

"Yes sir, although he was injured during his ship's crash he reports that he has not relinquished command."

"Good. Tell him that, as commander of the naval forces during the Relay 314 operation I am requesting permission to commence orbital bombardment on the alien colony."

"Yes sir!" The adjutant saluted and ran off to relay his orders. Barely a minute had passed before he returned.

"Permission granted. The General requests for you to focus on hostile defensive positions outside of the colony first." The adjutant relayed the other general's request.

"Very well." Desolas replied, his omni-tool sparking to life and bringing up a holographic map of the alien colony, with known defensive positions highlighted.

"The fifth cruiser squadron is to perform a stepping bombardment from east to west, starting from 300 meters in front of the colony's known eastern defensive line. Three shots per step, 100 meter increments. The ninth is to do the same from north to south, starting from 300 meters in front of the colony's northern defensive line. I want that colony leveled."

"Understood sir."

"Good. Once the bombardment is over, order the twenty first frigate squadron to descend into the atmosphere. They will provide close air support for the Palaven Nineteenth during their assault on the colony."

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

"No." With that curt order, Desolas turned away. Only when the adjutant had left did he allow his fury to make itself known, as his fist slammed into the nearest bulkhead. An enraged growl left his throat as he turned away and marched back into the CIC. The bridge officers saluted as he entered, and he briskly returned the gesture as he strode up to the bridge's central hologram projector. As he approached, the first rounds of orbital bombardment began.

* * *

Zaeed had been looking up at the dimming Shanxi sky when the first streaks appeared. The sight sent a pang of dread through him as he recognized it for what it was. The sirens from the colony, silent since the nuclear detonations, started up again, although the sound was different. It was a sound that Zaeed had been taught to fear ever since he was old enough to give meaning to such things. The bottom right corner of his helmet display lit up in bright red, the words 'Orbital Bombardment Incoming' searing themselves into his eyes, as if the lights in the sky and the blaring sirens were not obvious enough.

"Duck and cover!" One of the older men in the trench called out, and Zaeed hastened to obey, throwing himself into the trench. The logic was that, in the event of plasma bombardment, the wave of superheated gas would pass over the trench and the troops inside would not be incinerated. It seemed like bullshit to Zaeed, but it was what he was taught to do if he heard the orbital bombardment siren in an open space with no nearby shelters. Find a depression, or a natural barrier to put between himself and the plasma wave, and hide in or behind it.

Suddenly, he felt the ground shake, the shockwave of the first distant impact reverberating through his bones, the sound audible even over the blaring sirens.

"And here I thought my time watching the stars fall had come to an end..." A familiar voice spoke up from beside him. It was the veteran who had spoken to him and Vido not even an hour prior.

"Watching the stars fall?" Zaeed asked, heart hammering in his chest as the earth shuddered again.

"I've heard a lot of names for it over the years. Oscar Bravo, meteor showers, god's wrath... They all mean the same thing, that some alien up top has decided to do the practical thing and flatten us from orbit." The man replied, his voice distant.

Another shockwave came, followed by another.

"How many?" Zaeed asked.

"Seventeen." The soldier replied, and under his helmet Zaeed's eyes widened.

"How..."

"I spent most of them in a shelter, or under a bombardment shield. Only time I wasn't was on JO2R D2213B..." The soldier trailed off.

"What... What happened there?" Zaeed asked, fascination overtaking fear as another shockwave came, closer than the previous one.

"The aliens decided to call in an orbital strike into a hot combat zone. Couldn't run, or else we'd get shot in the back by the Ogyres we were attacking at the time. Three companies wiped out, along with the alien position we were assaulting. Only reason I lived was because an Ogyre Brute had tossed me through a wall. The building absorbed most of the blast, and didn't collapse fully. CS&R found me a few hours later." The soldier stopped speaking after that. Zaeed was silent for a while.

"What are our chances?" It was Vido who spoke next, from somewhere behind Zaeed.

"We'll know in a minute, won't we?" The soldier replied, a dry, humorless laugh following his words. Neither Zaeed nor Vido knew how to respond to that. The shockwaves were drawing closer at a steady pace, and as the echoing rumbles grew louder, Zaeed dared a peek up at his surroundings. His eyes widened as he saw immense columns of dirt, obviously thrown up by whatever the aliens were throwing down at him. Then, he saw the streaks. To an ignorant observer, they could have been meteors, but Zaeed knew better, and as he looked on, the fear that had been suppressed by conversation grew again, as he saw those meteors were headed straight for him.

He slammed his head back into the dirt moments before the first wave of fire hit home. Then, everything went black.

* * *

A jolt of pain snapped his eyes open, but all he saw was darkness. Tentatively, he raised his hand, attempting to see it in front of him, and failed to do so.

Moments later, something rough hit his helmet, and he instinctively lashed out, his fist connecting with something even as the dirt that was obscuring his helmet's cameras was wiped away.

"Easy there kid, save it for the enemy!" The older soldier's voice drew his attention.

"What happened?" Zaeed asked.

"Shockwave knocked you out. Thankfully the aliens were using pure kinetic impactors, so we're both still alive. I'd wonder why the hell they'd use them against soft targets in the open, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Most of the shots missed the trench, although one hit home about twenty meters east of us, wiped out a whole squad, our CO included. As of right now, I'm in charge of this section of the trench." The man said, the earth shaking as he spoke as the alien bombardment continued.

"What do we do?" Zaeed asked.

"Stay down for now. There's a second orbital barrage walking its way towards us from the North. Once it's over, I want you to check the automortar feed for damage. I don't think any of the shots came down close enough to destroy it, but I want to be sure." The man replied, the echoing shockwaves nearly drowning out his words as the second curtain of bombardment swept closer.

"Yes sir." Zaeed replied simply, his words lost as the next volley came down barely a hundred meters away. If there was a reply, it did not reach Zaeed's ears.

Fifteen seconds later, the curtain was overhead, and the first shells screamed home. The first wave of impacts sent Zaeed flying into the edge of the trench, but he managed to stay conscious this time around. He did not hear the next series of impacts, but he felt them nonetheless as another shockwave threw him up and onto the lip of the trench, his helmet impacting hard dirt while the rest of his body kept on tumbling. He felt his armor lock up, quite literally saving his neck as it lost all flexibility. However, the now-stiffened joints prevented him from looking away as yet another shell slammed home into the trench, kicking up a plume of dust that was faintly tinged with red, as the soldiers unlucky enough to be too close were reduced to a fine mist, armor and all.

It felt like an eternity before his armor loosened up, and he only dimly felt the pinpricks of medi-gel injections as the suit went about treating internal injuries. The bombardment had finally ceased, as the earth was no longer shaking. He lay still for a few long moments, allowing the medi-gel to do its lifesaving work, before remembering his orders. Looking around, he found the loading port for the automortar's ammunition feed, and he made his way towards it on shaky legs, stepping over a few hopefully unconscious bodies in the process.

The loading port itself was almost completely covered in dirt, but fortunately it seemed undamaged. Quickly scraping off most of the dirt with a few swipes of his armored hand, Zaeed began to check the integrity of the feed system. In addition to the loading port, he had buried two meter-long feeding chutes, which would carry the ammunition from the loading port to the mortar proper. The first chute checked out, as did the second, but the connection to the mortar did not. With that in mind, he clambered out of the trench, grabbing an entrenching tool as he did so, and walked over to where the small visible end of the automortar's barrel protruded out of the dirt. Then, he began to dig, quickly revealing the rest of the weapon. Quickly finding the severed connector, he quickly re-set it, ensuring that the electromagnet was solidly in place before replacing the dirt, hiding the weapon once more.

"Is it working?"

"Yes sir." Zaeed replied, turning to face the old soldier once again.

"Good, because the X-Rays are on the move, and they're bringing frigates down into the atmosphere. We've got about ten minutes before they reach our position."

"Frigates?" Zaeed exclaimed.

"Yeah, four frigates. Fortunately, we're not the ones boarding the damn things. Unfortunately, we've still got to hold the line with them overhead."

"How do we do that?" Vido's voice caused Zaeed to let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

"By killing every single one of those alien bastards that tries to take this trench!" Another voice called out. The two of them spun to the source, and saw a veteran soldier, his status denoted by his newer model of armor.

"Well said. Now get ready. They'll be in mortar range any minute now. Open fire as soon as you are able." Zaeed nodded, and after a moment's hesitation, he ran over to the loading port and removed the operator's remote, plugging it into his suit's left wrist. Immediately, his helmet HUD lit up with targeting information, and he couldn't help but laugh at what he saw.

"What is it?" Vido asked.

"Looks like the aliens were kind enough to leave our orbital satellites intact. I've got satellite targeting up and running!" Zaeed exclaimed.

"Huh... Something tells me these xenos aren't kept around for their intelligence."

"Tell me about it." Zaeed replied, zooming in on an advancing line of what appeared to be personnel carriers. Open topped personnel carriers, to be exact. After a moment's thought, he painted it with an orbital designator, which relayed the position to the mortar. Target acquired, all that remained was counting down the seconds until the vehicle was in range. As soon as the range indicator on his HUD flipped from red to green, he hammered the firing button, and heard the mortar fire its deadly payload. A few seconds passed as the bomb flew along its ballistic trajectory, smart guidance systems altering its path to ensure it would land on target. Finally, it slammed into the target, obscuring it with blue-green light as the plasma warhead detonated.

"Automortar hit confirmed on open-topped personnel carrier!" He exclaimed. Then, as the vehicle became visible again, he frowned.

"Open-topped personnel carrier observed to possess shielding. Negative damage." He reported.

"Give it two more shots. If they don't go through, shift focus to dismounted infantry." The old soldier ordered, voice curt.

"Roger, two shots." Zaeed replied, carrying out the order. The first bomb once again splashed off, but something clearly gave on the second, and Zaeed watched from a bird's eye view as the transport's occupants were bathed in green fire. Movement after the flash, however, showed that the occupants had shields of their own.

"Three shots confirmed to breach vehicle shielding, but occupants confirmed to have shields of their own. I say again, occupants confirmed to possess personal shields." He reported, firing off another mortar bomb as he did so. Another flash on target, and apparently something vital was hit, as the vehicle brewed up in a burst of white light.

"Reporting four mortar shots for destruction of vehicle and occupants."

"Copy that. Continue engaging personnel carriers until infantry dismount, then switch to soft targets."

"Roger." Zaeed replied, painting another personnel carrier. This time, he quickly fired off all four bombs, hearing rather than seeing additional ammunition being fed into the mortar behind him. The vehicle brewed up after the third bomb struck home, the fourth one slamming into an already burning wreck.

"Uh, sir? Hostiles confirmed by orbital to have entered alpha minefield, but the mines are not detonating. Requesting permission for manual detonation. I say again, mines are not detonating, requesting permission for manual detonation." A woman's voice, a few meters down the line, spoke up.

"Permission granted. Detonate at saturation."

"Roger, detonating at minefield saturation." A few seconds passed as alien forces continued to advance, before a bright green flash illuminated Zaeed's orbital view as the entire minefield went off at once, wiping out hundreds if not thousands of aliens in a conflagration that could easily be heard in the trench.

"Minefield detonation confirmed." The woman exclaimed.

"Roger that, stand by to detonate bravo minefield at saturation."

"FRIGATE SIGHTED! I HAVE VISUAL CONFIRMATION OF ENEMY FRIGATE! IT'S COMING RIGHT FOR US!" The panicked shout sent a chill down Zaeed's spine. Minimizing the targeting HUD, he looked up to see the alien vessel shining in the sky above, diving straight down towards the earth, still cocooned in a sheath of re-entry plasma. Three more similar streaks were clustered around it, so close together that Zaeed at first thought that they were just one ship.

"Roger, frigates confirmed." The veteran's voice contained no emotion at the news.

As if on cue, a trio of Argus-class shuttles, originally designed for transporting supplies to ships waiting in orbit, shot by overhead. Each one carried a laser cutter in an improvised mount under the nose, albeit with safety limiters removed, turning it into a cheap anti-materiel laser cannon with heat management issues. Of course, against a starship such a weapon would be a paltry affair, but, Zaeed mused, it was better than nothing.

He quickly put such musings aside, however, choosing instead to continue operation of the automortar. The frigates were out of his hands, but the personnel carriers were not. He soon found his next target, painted it, and destroyed it with a salvo of mortar bombs.

A nearby explosion shook the ground beneath his feet, as alien artillery began to zero in on the trench. Not even a minute later, the muted thunder of artillery fire sounded out from the colony as what few true artillery pieces Shanxi possessed commenced counter-battery fire.

"Hostile infantry are dismounting, I say again, hostile infantry are dismounting. They are within the bravo minefield... Detonation of anti-personnel mines confirmed. Anti-Tank mines still not going off, requesting permission for partial manual detonation." The minefield operator's voice sounded out again.

"Permission granted, detonate at saturation."

"Roger." A few more seconds passed as more and more alien vehicles poured into the minefield. Zaeed picked off a pair of personnel carriers with the automortar, but that did little to stem the flow of armor towards Shanxi.

Then, in another bright blue-green conflagration, the bravo minefield went off. The accompanying blast was louder, and it was close enough that Zaeed could make out the secondary detonations caused by enemy ammunition cooking off.

As soon as the enemy was visible, Zaeed opened fire once more with the automortar, this time aiming for the scattered and confused infantry that had survived. Bomb after bomb slammed home among the alien troops, and for a moment, Zaeed though that the battle was won right there. The alien advance was in disarray, the infantry having to slowly pick their way through a minefield while automortar bombs rained down upon them, while any armor advance had stalled out in fear of more remotely detonated minefields up ahead.

Then, the screams began, and Zaeed risked a glance to see what was going on. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Several meters to his left, one of the soldiers' armor was glowing a bright orange, the lilium alloy being heated past its melting point, slowly cooking the soldier beneath, as an invisible laser beam slowly swept its way across the trench, thankfully moving away from him. The ground shook as kinetic impactors from the frigates above began slamming into the ground, both around the trench and in the colony proper, suppressing the human artillery, and allowing their alien opposite numbers to unleash their fury on the dwindling defenders of Shanxi.

"Massani! Set the automortar to automatic and grab your rifle! Anyone who doesn't have their IFF on, activate it immediately!"

"Roger that, Automortar on automatic in 3...2... 1... NOW!" Zaeed called out over the roar of artillery and the screams of burning soldiers, checking and re-checking to make sure his armor's IFF was active and transmitting. After all, it would not do for his own weapon to drop a plasma bomb on his head.

Pulling his rifle from its magnetic clamp, he ran to the front of the trench, glancing up at the four frigates as he did so. They were no longer surrounded in plasma, and had clearly decelerated significantly. They flew in a tight diamond, blazing away with turreted weaponry. Of the three transports that had flown out to intercept them, only one remained, and as Zaeed looked on, it broke away from the heavier alien ships, diving at some unseen target on the ground instead.

Pulling himself up into a firing position, Zaeed took aim with his laser rifle at one of the many alien soldiers that had come into view, advancing slowly under a smokescreen. To make matters worse, whatever that smoke was made of, it was apparently impervious to thermal imaging. Switching to ultraviolet yielded better results, and Zaeed quickly found his first target and pulled the trigger, his laser's bright crimson beam punching through the smoke cloud and hitting the alien in the chest. It tumbled to the ground, but Zaeed was already aiming at his next target. All around him, the surviving Shanxi Militia opened fire, plasma and laser fire tearing into the advancing aliens, who responded in kind.

A loud rumble from above drew Zaeed's attention, and he gasped as he beheld the source. Apparently, the frigate on the left corner of the diamond suddenly swerved out of formation, ramming the rearmost ship in the formation, sending both vessels tumbling to the ground in an immense fireball. The sight caused cheers to break out all along the trench, and the defenders redoubled their efforts, tearing through the alien infantry as it attempted to charge the trench.

Then, the alien armor began to arrive, and the tide of battle began to shift once more, as hulking shapes of metal floated out of the smoke, cannons blazing. A missile streaked out of the trench from somewhere to Zaeed's right, causing one of the tanks to go up in flames as the directed plasma charge did its work. Moments later, the shooter was obliterated as one of the tanks returned fire, a high-explosive shell causing their segment of the trench to go up in smoke. To make matters worse, one of the alien frigates had taken up a position directly overhead, pouring down laser fire as its surviving partner moved away to cover a different area of the alien advance.

Emboldened by the arrival of their armor, the alien infantry surged forwards, sprinting the last few meters to the trench. A few of them threw grenades, one of which landed right beside Zaeed. He tensed, but before he could follow his instinct to leap away, it went off. He felt the impacts of shrapnel ricocheting off his armor, flinching in pain as a fragment lodged itself in one of his suit's abdominal joints. The flexible undersuit immediately contracted around the wound, forcing the fragment out while medi-gel was released into the wound.

He turned to face the enemy just in time to see an alien open fire, its hastily aimed burst going over his shoulder. Before it could adjust its aim, Zaeed caught it in the chest with a laser beam, causing its corpse to fall forward into the trench. Another alien took its place, this one going for his weapon. The laser rifle was knocked to the side, firing uselessly into the air as the alien raised a long knife. Zaeed caught it in left hand, before locking his left leg around that of the alien and pushing off with his right, managing to successfully roll the alien onto its back. A second later, he was kicked back against the wall of the trench, his rifle slipping out of his grasp. With his left hand still clamped around his opponent's right, he reached for his own combat knife, the sheath snapping open as soon as his hand clamped around its hilt. The fusion knife's blade glowed blue as he thumbed the activation switch and, in one swift movement, he brought the weapon across his opponent's chest. It skipped off the alien's shields, which glowed a bright indigo at the impact, but the heat and radiation coming from the fusion reaction that formed the weapon's edge nonetheless burned through the alien's armor, causing it to flinch in pain, giving Zaeed the opportunity he needed to kick it off him and dive for his rifle, reflexively deactivating his knife as he did so.

His fingers closed around the rifle's grip, and he raised the weapon with one hand, firing several shots in the direction of the alien. One connected, and the creature slumped against the wall of the trench, a glowing crater in its chest. However, more and more aliens poured into the trench, guns blazing and knives flashing as they engaged their opponents. Zaeed killed two in rapid succession, but he knew it was only a matter of time before his position was overrun.

"WE'RE LEAVING! SECTOR TWELVE HAS BEEN OVERRUN! ARTILLERY STRIKE HAS BEEN CALLED IN! ALL SURVIVING TROOPS, FALL BACK TO THE COLONY!" The old veteran's shouted order was immediately carried out, as whatever surviving humans remained in the trench attempted to escape before the artillery could come down. Zaeed kicked away a nearby alien before grabbing the lip of the trench and pulling himself out, before immediately falling prone, just barely avoiding a burst of machine gun fire from one of the alien tanks. All around him, his fellow militiamen were falling as well, some going prone as he did, while others were too slow, and fell after the alien weapons tore into their armor.

None of his school's training sessions had prepared him for this, he mused as he scrambled away from the now-overrun trench. To get up and run was suicide, thanks to the alien machine guns, but to crawl was to die as well, as the alien artillery, both frigate-borne and land-based, began to rain down once more. Then, the friendly artillery from Shanxi hit home, and for a moment, the battlefield was illuminated by blinding light as the fusion shells went off. His helmet's flash compensators allowed him to keep his vision, even as more shells flashed and exploded, bathing the trench in nuclear fire. A few hit home among the enemy tanks, while the attention of the alien frigate overhead was diverted towards counter-battery fire. Then, the alien ship exploded in a blinding white fireball, as something within its hull went off, the boarding party assigned to it having traded their lives to finish their mission.

As burning debris began to rain down, Zaeed stood up and ran, hoping that the alien tanks were sufficiently distracted. He only made it a few steps before an alien explosive shell slammed home nearby, the blast wave throwing him back down as shrapnel clattered off his armor. He continued crawling towards the colony, machine guns spraying the dirt all around him, while behind him, the aliens began to clamber out of the trench, seeking to escape the fusion shells that were hitting home with near-perfect accuracy.

Then, in a flash of green light, one of the alien tanks brewed up. Two more followed suit in the same amount of seconds, while four streams of red light swept the now alien controlled segment of the trench as an M-109-3 Bradford MBT made its presence known, its main gun firing as fast as its gunner could get it on target, while its anti-air lasers tore through infantry with ruthless efficiency. Bolts of green and beams of red criss-crossed the air as the troops within the colony proper opened fire, suppressing the aliens and allowing Zaeed to rise back to his feet and sprint towards friendly lines. He took cover in a ruined house, the building gutted by either artillery or orbital bombardment, but enough of it remained to serve as protection. The alien advance had stalled out, as foolish alien infantry attempted to retreat out of the killzone they had found themselves in, while the surviving alien vehicles attempted to take cover behind the burnt-out hulks of their less-fortunate brethren. Another brilliant flash of light from above, and the last enemy frigate in-atmo went up in flames, descending IFF signals showing that the boarders assigned to it had managed to escape with their lives.

Barely a minute later, and the battlefield was silent, save for the crackle of fires and the cries of the wounded, both alien and human. The alien advance had stalled out, their vanguard slaughtered, but a quick check of orbital imaging showed a tide of red massing several kilometers out.

"Zaeed! You're alright!" Vido's voice drew his attention away from the front.

"Looks like we both made it." Zaeed replied, a smile forming beneath his helmet.

"Can't say the same for a lot of us..." Vido replied, trailing off as he cast a look towards the trench, where the bodies of human and alien mixed.

"Are we going back to the trench?" Zaeed asked. The distant rumble of alien artillery stopped any reply, as the two of them dove towards the nearest source of cover. Seconds later, the shells began raining down, tearing into the already ruined colony. Then, the louder rumble of orbital bombardment began, and Zaeed cursed.

"Here we go again..." Vido muttered from where he lay.

Where the previous orbital bombardment was ordered and carefully planned, this one was indiscriminate. Kinetic impactors rained down all over the colony, throwing up immense plumes of debris wherever they hit. One of the nearby ruins finally had enough and collapsed, lilium walls caving inwards as the foundation gave way, burying whoever had been occupying that structure alive.

Somewhere behind him, Zaeed heard friendly artillery open up, once again targeting hostile artillery according to his uplink map.

"They're on the move again." Another familiar voice drew his attention. Behind him stood the old veteran, whose name Zaeed still did not know.

"They'll be in range in about thirty minutes. You two alright?" The man asked.

"I guess..." Vido murmured.

"Good. Make sure you're prepared." The older man replied, clapping Vido on the back, before doing the same to Zaeed.

"Don't worry, we'll get through this. I know it." He said, before moving on to the next ruin, where a few more younger militiamen waited.

"So long as the reinforcements arrive in time." Zaeed said once the older man had left.

"Heh... Are we being relieved?" Vido asked.

"I don't know, but Shanxi's a relay world. They can't be that far away."

"Let's hope so... And if not, let's take as many of those fuckers with us as we can."

"Amen to that." Zaeed replied, turning to face the oncoming assault once more.

* * *

The silence was more unnerving to Saren than the gunfire. The orbital bombardment had provided cover enough for his escape, even if it had nearly killed him.

"You think we won?" Tarkus asked from behind him, the regimental standard strapped securely to his back. As if on cue, the rumble of now-distant orbital bombardment answered his question.

"No, otherwise we wouldn't still be pounding them from orbit." Saren sighed. There was no reply for a while, and the two of them continued their trek in silence. The forest around them was similarly quiet, any lifeforms having been scared into silence by the sound of warfare.

"Agh, fuck! Not again!" Tarkus exclaimed suddenly, and Saren turned to see the Turian wrestling with a plant that had latched onto his leg.

"Identify yourselves!" The shout came from nearby. It was a Turian voice.

"We're friendly! Don't shoot!" Tarkus shouted back, finally wrenching his leg free of the plant's grip.

"I said, identify yourselves!" The voice shouted back.

"Tarkus Velarian, Palaven Eighth, Second Company!"

"Saren Arterius, Blackwatch!" The two of them shouted back.

"Alright, come out with your hands in the air, no sudden movements." The reply came, and the two of them complied.

"What the hell is this all about?" Tarkus demanded as the sentry accosting them came into view. In response, the sentry walked around them, stopping short as he saw the regimental standard.

"Ok, you're from the Eighth all right. Where's the rest of your regiment?" He asked.

"I am the rest of my regiment. As far as I know, only Saren and I made it out of that slaughterhouse alive. Now, why the hell were you treating us like an enemy?" Tarkus replied.

"Sorry sir, but given what these aliens have done so far, orders are to treat anything coming from the direction of the colony as hostile. The only reason I didn't shoot on sight was because I heard you speaking Palavian." The sentry replied.

"I'm afraid to ask, but what have the Fukyus done?" Saren asked.

"Fukyus? Never mind. I'm sure you heard the recent battle while you were making your way back to friendly lines. Our vanguard force, which by all rights should have been able to take a colony of that size all by itself, got slaughtered. All they accomplished was letting us know where the minefields were, and just how their tech will kill us when our turn comes to make the charge."

"The entire vanguard?" Tarkus exclaimed.

"Yeah, only one in ten made it back when the order for a tactical retreat was given."

"Did they at least find a way to win this?" Saren asked.

"Not that I know of. All I've heard is that the aliens have mass-produced laser rifles, micro-nukes for artillery shells, and more redundant organs than the Krogan." The Sentry replied as he turned to head back towards the rest of his unit. Saren and Tarkus followed right behind him.

"Yeah, they don't seem to go down fast unless you nail them in the head." Saren confirmed, remembering his experiences in the city.

"What kind of world could produce monsters like that?" The Sentry asked.

"I don't know. Never did all that well in xenobiology." Tarkus replied.

They continued walking for a few more minutes, before another Turian voice called out.

"Rackis, is that you?"

"Yeah Silon, it's me. Picked up a pair of survivors from the Eighth as well." The sentry, Rackis, replied.

"The Eighth? I thought it had been wiped out." Silon replied.

"Evidently not."

"Alright. Well, you'd best get to the command tent. The higher-ups just issued an order to report any survivors coming in from the front lines. Better do it fast though, because we're about to start an all-out push. Arty's been pounding the colony non-stop since the vanguard pulled out, although the enemy arty's been hitting the batteries pretty bad. They've switched to firing on the move from what I can tell, which means they can't hit shit, but at least it keeps the enemy from nuking them."

"Will we be getting more close air support from the navy?" Rackis asked as Saren and Tarkus entered the camp proper.

"No. After the aliens took out an entire frigate squadron, the navy isn't committing anything bigger than a fighter."

"Thank the spirits that the shells their ships fire are smaller then!" Rackis replied, before turning and leading Saren and Tarkus towards the command tent. Inside, several junior officers were arguing over a map. They looked up as one when Rackis entered.

"What is it, Private Ahrs? Did you find something out on patrol?" The most senior of the bunch asked.

"Yes sir, they're survivors from the Eighth. I am reporting them as per recently issued orders." Rackis replied.

"So there were survivors after all." The officer replied, before addressing Saren and Tarkus.

"You two are to identify yourselves, and then summarize your experience in the alien colony. We need all the valid intel we can get if we are to take that damn place." The officer stated.

"Yes sir. I am sergeant Tarkus Velarian, Palaven Eighth, Second Company. As far as I know, I am the only member of the EighthEighthto make it out alive." Tarkus began, before gesturing to Saren.

"I am Saren Arterius, Blackwatch." With that, the two of them began to recount the battle in the Fukyu colony, handing over the photographs they had taken, now somewhat out of date thanks to the orbital bombardment re-arranging the colony.

When they were finished, the officers looked at them for a moment, before nodding.

"Very well. As you may have heard, we are planning another offensive. As the Palaven Eighth is effectively defunct, I am attaching the two of you to the Fifth Company of the Palaven Nineteenth. We will be in the second wave. Now find a vehicle and get on, unless you want to go on foot. We leave in five. Dismissed!" With those words, Saren turned and exited the tent, where a medic was waiting with a burn treatment kit. He kept his arm as still as possible as the medic injected anesthetic and hurriedly treated the burned limb, although judging by how empty the medic's kit was, he didn't seem capable of doing more than easing the pain. Thankfully, the wound was not crippling.

When the medic finally moved on, Saren looked around to see Tarkus getting into a Ceridae APC, gesturing for him to follow. There was one open seat within the cramped vehicle when Saren arrived, and he quickly took it, plugging his rifle into an open firing port after sitting down. Checking to make sure his scope was properly interfacing with the external camera, he gave a satisfied nod and sat back.

"Another charge, we'll make today. To glory, good soldiers, and a bloody day!" The familiar verse drew his attention.

"They made you study Excutitan in school as well?" He asked Tarkus, who had just quoted the famous Turian poet, Excutitan Pilus.

"Who hasn't?" Another Turian spoke up.

"Hopefully most of that blood won't be ours." Saren said.

"I'd drink to that." Tarkus replied.

"Shame we've got no alcohol." Saren laughed, an action mirrored by the rest of the transport.

Then, the rear door began to rise, quickly slamming shut.

"Attention all troops, we'll be on the move in five. Say your prayers and hope the spirits hear them." The driver's voice sounded out over the vehicle's intercom. Some of the Turians in the cramped compartment heeded his advice and lowered their heads, hands clasped together as they muttered prayers to whatever spirits their families paid homage to. Saren had never been a pious man, but after a few moments he decided that it would not hurt to see if there was indeed a spirit or two on his side, and muttered a quick prayer of his own.

Then, the vehicle began to move, and he raised his head, returning his view to his rifle's sights, watching as what seemed to be every single vehicle in the regiment all at once began to move.

"Alright men, it seems like this is it. The vanguard may have been slaughtered, but the rest of the regiment remains. The aliens have retreated to the colony, so we should not have to contend with trenches, and the vanguard is believed to have cleared away all remaining minefields to the colony's south. However, potential minefields remain to the east, north and west of the colony, and as such Command has not ordered a full encirclement. The Palaven Nineteenth has been ordered to bring its entire might to bear against the southern side of the colony. OB has softened them up, and artillery has done what it can to make our job even easier. Now it's up to the Palaven Nineteenth to finish the job. Let's do this quickly and cleanly, understood?" The commander of whatever unit occupied the majority of the compartment addressed his troops.

"What about me and Saren? We're not from the Nineteenth, so what are our orders?" Tarkus spoke up.

"Stay alive and kill the enemy." One of the nearby soldiers joked.

"You two are to act independently in support of my unit. If I've heard correctly, you two have already fought in the colony, and as such have an idea of the lay of the land. Understood?" The two of them chorused affirmative at that, before Saren returned his focus to his scope.

The Turian army was a magnificent thing to behold. Thousands of vehicles, from tanks to APCs to IFVs all sped towards the alien colony in perfect formation, while VTOLs flew low overhead, supersonic fighters screaming by above them as they sped off to secure air superiority.

Such a panoply of war could not be resisted by any army, Saren thought as he surveyed the nearest tank formation through his scope.

Then, there was a flash of light, and when Saren could see again, the tank formation was gone, replaced by smoldering wrecks, carving furrows into the ground as their hover-chassis failed. More flashes erupted down the line as alien artillery began to do its bloody work. A blast wave sent a nearby APC tumbling end over end, its own hover chassis suddenly slamming it into the ground, crushing the turret and anyone inside. Saren's own APC shuddered from the nearby blast, but it kept on moving forward.

"Alright men, we have our orders! Air superiority has been secured over the target, but heavy anti-air fire is preventing our attack craft from loitering over the area. We need to take those out if we want to have any hope of proper air support during our push. Let's do it!" The officer ordered, moments before the vehicle's gun opened up, sending a steam of gunfire towards the distant enemy positions. Already, torrents of red light were sweeping the Turian VTOL formation, which quickly broke as the pilots began evasive maneuvers, firing off missiles at the sources, while bright green bolts slammed into tanks, reducing them to burning hulks as they punched right through the vehicles' kinetic barrier and the armor beneath.

"SHIT! HOLD ON TIGHT!" Saren had barely enough time to heed the driver's panicked advice and grab onto his seat before the APC spun out of control as something slammed into it from above. Moments later, an explosion ripped through the vehicle as alien weapons-fire hit home. The last thing Saren remembered before blacking out was his head slamming against an armored bulkhead.

* * *

"Here they come! Hold fire until infantry dismount unless you've got anti-tank weapons." As ordered, Zaeed held fire, even as alien machine gun fire raked the ruined house, thankfully not penetrating the thick lilium plate he was hiding behind. His only view of the unfolding carnage was coming from his helmet's periscope, which was currently focused on the alien vehicle attacking his position.

Suddenly, a burst of laser fire from a nearby building slammed into an alien aircraft, which tumbled down onto the attacking vehicle, going up in an immense fireball. A plasma bolt from one of Shanxi's tanks promptly confirmed the kill.

The open plain in front of him rapidly turning into a hellscape of burning vehicles, as the aliens in the rear maneuvered around the wrecks of their predecessors. The alien advance was stalling out again, unable to make headway against the might of Humanity.

Then, three awfully familiar whistles sounded out as an alien frigate made its presence known, its weapons blazing away as it descended from the heavens. Zaeed glanced to his left just in time to see the tank occupying that corner go up in flames. The vehicle, while it was well armored and shielded, was simply not designed to withstand firepower of that magnitude, and it went up in a burst of emerald fire.

Emboldened by the arrival of the frigate, the alien forces surged forward, infantry finally starting to dismount from their carriers. Just like he had been taught in school, Zaeed centered his sights on the first target he saw and pulled the trigger. A lance of red light punched a glowing crater in the alien's chest and it went down. Target eliminated, Zaeed centered his sights on a new target, falling into the familiar cycle of center target, pull trigger that had been drilled into him from childhood.

Up above, flashes in the sky indicated the colony's artillery changing targets. Circling through the ruined Shanxi streets in an attempt to avoid counter-fire, the SPGs trained their guns on the frigate, the fusion shells leaving glowing marks on the ship's hull wherever they hit. The ship's shields were flashing with every impact, but apparently something got through as turret after turret was slagged. However, every shell aimed at the frigate was a shell not aimed at the advancing tide of alien armor and infantry, and for all their lethality, the Shanxi Militia simply could not kill the enemy fast enough. Return fire sparking off his cover caused Zaeed to duck down behind cover, at least until Vido indicated that he had taken out the alien suppressing him.

No matter how many they killed, however, there was always someone to take the place of the fallen, and soon they were close enough that Zaeed could make out every twitch of an alien finger against a trigger.

"Fall back! We'll lose our firepower advantage in close quarters!" The order came, and Zaeed did not hesitate to follow, crawling away until he was certain that the enemy would not shoot him in the back, before getting up and sprinting to the next house, where he turned and opened fire once more.

Beside him, Vido screamed in pain and fell to the ground as an alien bullet hit home.

"Are you alright?" He exclaimed, downing the alien that dared hurt his friend.

"Yeah... Medi-gel's taking care of it..." Vido bit back, pushing his rifle over his cover and firing blindly, hitting nothing but causing a cautious alien to duck back behind cover.

The two of them held the ruined building for a few more minutes before the order to fall back came again, and once more they obeyed. This time, however, Zaeed got careless, and he cried out in pain as a burst of alien fire tore through his leg, sending him to the ground.

"FUCK!" Vido exclaimed, turning around just in time to take another shot through the chest. Zaeed could hear him coughing through his helmet, indicating a punctured lung. His helmet was blaring warnings in his ears, indicating that his medi-gel reserves were critically low after that last injury, and that he could no longer rely on it in the event of him taking a hit. Nevertheless, Zaeed struggled to his feet, firing wildly in the direction of his assailant as he attempted to drag Vido behind cover, ignoring the spikes of pain from his wounded leg.

"Vido! Are you alright?" He demanded once he was safe

"Medi-gel is low..." Vido coughed out.

"That makes two of us then." Zaeed replied, checking his surroundings for aliens. Satisfied that he was safe for the moment, he switched his helmet comms channel to medical.

"This is militaman Massani, sector 32. My medi-gel supply is low and I am wounded, requesting immediate resupply!" He called out.

"Say again, militaman? What sector are you in?"

"Sector 32! My squad-mate is wounded and needs medi-gel fast!"

"Shit, fall back to artillery ammo depot 7, they should still have some medi-gel there. I'm sending co-ordinates now."

"Roger that." Zaeed replied, inwardly groaning. The artillery depot was half a kilometer north of his current position.

"Let's go then." Vido said, struggling to his feet, rifle aimed with one hand in the general direction of the alien advance.

Taking a moment to steel their nerves, the two of them promptly sprinted north, alien weapons fire cracking past their ears as they ran to the next piece of cover, firing blindly behind them as they went. Finally, they found a mostly intact house, vaulting inside through a hole left by an artillery shell. The aliens were being engaged by other people now, and their attention was thus diverted. With that in mind, the two of them continued their journey, slowing to a walk once the aliens were out of sight. Vido was panting horribly, each exhalation accompanied by a wet cough as his lung injury acted up. Zaeed limped beside him, his partially healed leg making progress slow.

It seemed like an eternity before they finally reached the artillery resupply depot. A T-115-3 SPG was resupplying as they limped in, although Zaeed saw a depressingly small amount of fusion shells remaining. Even as more ammunition was being loaded, the vehicle's main gun was blazing away, while its anti-air lasers spun around on their mounts, shooting at any aircraft they could draw a bead on.

As Zaeed called for a medi-gel resupply, the SPG's crew was apparently satisfied, and they sped away, gun still blazing in the general direction of the enemy, relying more on their shells' built-in guidance systems than their own aiming to ensure their shots' accuracy while firing on the move.

As the medic arrived, however, he took one look at Zaeed and shook his head.

"Medi-gel isn't enough to fix your friend. We'll take it from here." The man said, handing him a medi-gel pack.

"Swap out your pack and hand me the empty one. Then, since you're already here, make yourself useful and help with loading when the next one-fifteen arrives." The medic ordered.

"Please, you-" Zaeed began, but the medic cut him off.

"We'll do our best, but no guarantees. You should know that by now. Now get to work, I can hear a one-fifteen coming." The man ordered, and Zaeed nodded, turning away as medics loaded Vido onto a stretched and hauled him away to a field hospital, stripping his armor off with practiced ease.

* * *

"Saren!" Tarkus' distant voice echoed through the blackness.

"Saren, can you hear me?" He wanted to reply, but all that he could muster was a soft wheeze. Slowly, his eyes opened, only to see nothing but darkness.

"Damn..." Tarkus muttered, and the next thing Saren felt was the sensation of being dragged along rough ground, a distant hum echoing through his ears, slowly giving way to a loud roar.

The rough ground beneath his back shifted to a hard, metal ramp, and Saren realized that he was being moved onto a ship.

"Don't worry Saren, you're getting out of here alive." Tarkus said, his voice close.

"Spirits, what happened to you two?" An unfamiliar voice said.

"Never mind that, get them to the infirmary!" Another replied.

"Wait, ignore me, I can still fight!" Tarkus protested as Saren felt another pair of arms grab him and load him onto a stretcher.

"Look at yourself! I can't even tell your rank from how badly your armor's burnt! The only difference between you and your friend is that your suit's joints aren't locked up, and your visor's still partially clear! You're joining him in the infirmary!" As the medic spoke, Saren felt himself being lifted up and carried off, the arguing voices fading into the distance.

Suddenly, he felt the ship begin to shift, pitching upwards as it started to climb.

"Doctor! We have another one!"

"Hopefully he won't be like the last two. I have to save my anaesthetic for surgery. Set him down on an empty bed, then take that body out... She didn't make it." The doctor ordered, and the medics scrambled to obey.

The next thing Saren felt was his helmet being removed, blinding light suddenly flooding his eyes.

"Good, you're still conscious. That makes things a lot easier. Stand by for sedation." The doctor said, before turning to someone on his left.

"Laeran, help me cut him out of his armor, we might be able to save him." Those words were the last thing Saren heard before he felt a prick in his neck, and his vision went black once more.

* * *

The command bunker was mostly dark, lit only by the holographic displays projected in the center and along the walls of the room. No sound from the battle above permeated into the underground structure, but the men and women within knew exactly what was going on outside.

"Enemy frigate is retreating, no additional contacts coming down." General Williams nodded at the news.

"How many fusion shells do we have left?" He asked.

"All depots save for number three are out." One of the officers in the room reported.

"Damn. Leave the frigate be. What of the force to the north? Has it moved?"

"Negative, it seems to be content with shelling us from the mountains."

"Good. Six more salvos on their position, then expend the rest of our artillery on any remaining hostiles south of the colony."

"New report from Pestilence. Our tank-mounted AA laser array can overmatch side and rear armor on hostile tanks when fired at close range." An adjutant to the Shanxi Garrison Commander of Armor reported.

"What the hell are they doing, shooting AA at tanks and not aircraft?" Said commander demanded, her voice irritated but not entirely displeased at the news.

"Not much in the way of aircraft out there for them to shoot. Either they've retreated out of laser range, or they've been shot down." The adjutant replied.

"They have cannons for dealing with tanks. The lasers are better saved for the infantry. Judging by the reports we've been hearing, the enemy shields do not seem to protect against laser-based weaponry." The commander replied.

"We can address unorthodox use of weaponry later. Right now, we have a battle to fight." Williams snapped, before turning to his own adjutant.

"Any news from Drescher?" He asked.

"She has ordered whatever forces she has on the relay network to proceed to Idar. Most of them, including her flagship, are already there, along with the 412th Solar and 53rd Arcturus regiments. However, she has ordered her ships to utilize conventional FTL on the last leg of the journey. She believes that such a move will give her better chances of catching the enemy fleet off-guard, as they are doubtlessly watching the relays."

"What's her ETA?" Williams asked.

"Three days, plus another eight hours for the regiments."

"Fuck, we just lost Pestilence. Multiple enemy AT teams attacked it simultaneously. We are down to two tanks." The commander of armor's adjutant exclaimed.

"Order War and Death to retreat behind friendly lines. The only reason Pestilence got taken out like that was because it rushed out to engage enemy tanks." The commander replied, worry plain in her voice.

"Alcyone and Merope are out of ammo. All ammunition depots have been exhausted as well."

"Move them to the front. Their lasers will still be useful against infantry and light vehicles." Williams ordered, and on the hologram, the two SPGs altered their course. The other five units the colony possessed continued their high-speed circling through the colony streets, although one by one they too ran dry on ammunition and were quickly sent to the front.

"Taygete is out. The colony no longer possesses functional artillery."

"It was bound to happen eventually. At least we fired all our munitions first. What about the enemy advance?" Williams asked

"The forces in sectors 46 West and 04 East have been stalled out completely. As for the forces between them, we have fallen back and allowed them to advance as ordered. Once the aliens in 46 and 04 have been pushed back, we may commence envelopment and elimination." His adjutant reported.

"Good, good... When the envelopment begins, issue a request for prisoners. Something is odd about these aliens, and I want to know what it is." Williams ordered.

"What makes you think that?" The commander of armor asked.

"The fact that we're still alive. Now spread word that reinforcements arrive in three days. That should keep morale nice and high while we drive these aliens back into whatever lab they crawled out of!"

"Yes sir!" The room's other occupants chorused. Williams smiled at the reaction, before returning his gaze to the holo-map. Almost one third of Shanxi was covered in red, meaning that it was under alien control, and that amount was slowly increasing. However, a quick glance at the skies above the colony, as well as the satellite data concerning the amount of known hostile troops and vehicles, told a different, far more optimistic story. The aliens may have overrun a portion of the colony, but attrition would soon catch up to them. Soon, they would be forced to halt their push, or risk defeat and destruction at the hands of Human defenders. Either way, Humanity would win. Either the aliens would over-extend themselves and die, or they would be stalemated until reinforcements arrived and pushed them off-world.

Victory was his, he mused, taking a sip of tea from his oversized mug. It was just a matter of time.

* * *

 **A/N: IT'S FINALLY DONE! I struggled with writer's block for a while, and my somewhat hectic life has not helped at all. Nevertheless, I have finally released it in all its hopefully excellent glory, and look forward to hearing your reviews of it.**

 **Now for my post-fic commentary for those interested in what I was thinking while writing this.**

 **Firstly, regarding the relative ineffectiveness of the Turian orbital bombardment, bear in mind that they were using kinetic impactors that did not possess any warhead. While such a weapon would be devastating against single, armored targets or against underground bunkers, the fact that they direct all their kinetic energy downwards, which is extremely inefficient when targeting soft infantry targets. It's not useless, as a hunk of metal coming down at a tiny percentage of light-speed is going to hurt everyone at and around its impact site, but it's not going to annihilate entire platoons (Unless it's a dreadnought shot, which was not employed in the Shanxi bombardment).**

 **Next up, the boarding of the Turian frigates was a scene that I wanted to write, but after several attempts I ended up scrapping it, as it ultimately served little purpose aside from introducing a random OC that I would likely never use again. As such, whatever happened aboard those frigates is up to your imaginations.**

 **Now, when designing Turian vehicles, I wanted to create something that, against other ME-universe races, are excellent vehicles that can still be mass-produced. While their tanks did not really feature in this chapter as I had initially wanted them to, I do believe that my making them trade conventional armor for kinetic barriers and additional speed (A valid design choice when the other races you know about have no efficient way of bypassing KBs) was apparent enough in the scenes they featured. Even it it was not, and they appeared more as cardboard cutouts/targets for the Human tanks to destroy, the Turian armed forces will get a lot more screentime in the coming days, and I hope to amply showcase their adapting tactical doctrines and changing technology as they continue to fight humanity.**

 **That's all I can think of for now. Once again, I hope you all have enjoyed the story so far. See you in the next update!**


	6. Chapter 4: End of the Beginning

**A/N: Well, it's finally done. I hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: End of the Beginning**

 _"What the hell? Are we shooting decoys? There's no way something that big would go down so fast!" -_ Anonymous Gunnery Officer.

 **Council Chambers, Citadel**

"Are you sure this data is accurate?" Dalatrass Verlin whispered as she stared at the datapad, her eyes following the text almost as fast as she could scroll through it.

"To incur such casualty rates at such a small colony, they have to be." Councilor Barakis replied, casting a look around to make sure they were alone.

"Forgive me for not believing it on sight. Much of it is... Far-fetched, to say the least. Hand-held laser weapons? No element zero? Starships capable of striking with impunity from far outside our own maximum effective range? Weaponry capable of annihilating a dreadnought in a single hit? If you hadn't given me this data, I would have assumed the general in charge was lying to cover for his own incompetence, and even then, data can be fabricated." Verlin replied.

"I agree, but I have no proof to the contrary." Barakis replied.

"I take it that you desire Salarian support in the coming conflict?" Verlin asked, and Barakis nodded.

"I do. If this is what one of their smaller colonies can do, I shudder to think of what assaulting their homeworld would be like." Barakis replied.

"What makes you think that this is not their homeworld?" Verlin asked.

"Please Verlin, don't play stupid. There is one small settlement on the entire planet. No infrastructure for building warships, no factories for making tanks, nothing. That's not a homeworld, that is a colony." Barakis said.

"Then that means reinforcements are inbound." Verlin pointed out.

"I know. General Arterius has already positioned the bulk of his fleet behind the system's relay. All that remains in orbit are a pair of cruiser squadrons and some frigates providing orbital support and medical evacuation."

"It won't be enough. If I were you, I would order a complete evacuation while you still can." Barakis sighed at those words.

"It's out of my hands. Only Arterius or the Primarch could order a total retreat like that. My job is merely to get your support in the coming war." He explained tiredly.

"You have it. Relay 314, while it is ultimately in Turian space, is disturbingly close to Salarian territory, and once the alien counterattack begins, we are going to be in its crosshairs. However, at the moment the only assets my race can bring to bear are the STG and the First Fleet. Assuming my recommendation is followed, I would like to request permission for the First Fleet to enter Turian space to assist in the defense of Relay 314." Verlin replied.

"Permission granted. I have likewise recommended that the Turian Fifth Fleet take up a defensive position around the relay. Spirits willing, we will have over one thousand ships guarding that relay soon enough." Barakis said, a rare smile on his face. It was good to see the Salarian councilor cooperating.

"That is good to hear. Let us hope that the combined might of our two races can push the enemy out of our space."

"That just leaves Tevos." Barakis' mention of the Asari councilor caused Verlin to scowl.

"Good luck convincing her." She sniffed.

"With this data, I am sure that she will-"

"No, she will not." Verlin cut him off before he could finish.

"What makes you so sure?" Barakis asked.

"History. No offense, but your race is relatively young. You were not around during the Rachni wars, and you only joined Citadel society halfway through the Krogan rebellions, after they had already started to slow down. My people, meanwhile, have kept meticulous records up to and before the Rachni War, and if this coming conflict is anything like the past two major ones, I fear that history will repeat itself." Verlin explained.

"How so?" Barakis asked.

"The Asari have shown themselves to be rather... Hesitant in committing to a war, and that is certainly not due to their pacifist tendencies. The Migrant Fleet avoids Asari space for a reason, after all. Oh, they're good at burying evidence, but when you possess agents like the STG you can easily dig it up and form a picture of what really happened. However, the Asari shooting up Quarian civilians is irrelevant. What matters is what they have done during the past two major wars that have plagued Citadel space."

"Get to the point."

"Very well. During the Rachni War, the Rachni laid siege to Sur'Kesh after almost completely overrunning most of Salarian space. Billions were dead, billions more were awaiting death, and the Asari did nothing. They only committed themselves once the Rachni began to make large-scale incursions into their space, and even then they only started to go on the offensive after the Rachni had exhausted themselves on my people. Sur'Kesh was eventually liberated by a combined force of Salarian and Krogan troops, with a few Asari expeditionary ships making a token contribution. Then, when the time came to push into Rachni space, it was the Krogan who bore the brunt of the death, while the Asari sat on the sidelines and cheered them on."

"That's not what the records say." Barakis pointed out.

"Guess who wrote those records." Verlin replied.

"Why have you not released your own?"

"The Asari still had people alive back then who could put together a history. We did not, and by the time we did it was too late. Perception is reality, and the Asari control it. If we were to release our histories now, all the Asari who had parents and grandparents in the Rachni War would come out in force and accuse us of historical revisionism. The Asari-written textbooks would support them, and we would be made out as liars." Verlin's voice was bitter.

"I see... Now, what of the Krogan Rebellions?" Barakis asked.

"Same thing. Did you know that there were no Asari in the first team to make contact with your people? There were Volus, Salarians and even a Hanar, but no Asari. They came in later, and secured your race's aid against the Krogan by signing the Volus over to you. Now it was your turn to shoulder the burden of war while my race recovered, and the Asari stayed idle." Verlin said.

"I see. So you think the Asari will stay idle again?" Barakis asked.

"They will offer some assistance. They will evacuate colonies on the borders of their space, take in refugees, and provide token shipments of material to help our war effort, but they will not fight until the enemy has exhausted itself fighting us. Then they will swoop in, and history will remember them kindly for it." Verlin answered.

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"Ask her for support. Token assistance is still assistance, and we may get lucky." Verlin replied. Before Barakis could reply, his omni-tool buzzed. Pulling up the message, he nodded.

"The Fifth Fleet is mobilizing. I hope to see your First Fleet at 314 as well." He said.

"I will do everything in my power to ensure you do. I refuse to let another Rachni war occur without doing what I can to prevent it." Verlin replied.

* * *

Zaeed gasped slightly as his armor injected stimulant into his body, ensuring that he could keep fighting for a few more hours.

"Enemy patrol, ETA sixty seconds." Vido reported from his corner of the room, where he was monitoring the colony's satellite map.

"Wait for them to pass, then open fire." The old veteran ordered, and the six other militiamen in the room nodded, shouldering their laser rifles once more. Zaeed did the same, checking his sights more out of habit than out of fear of a misalignment.

"They're passing by." Vido reported a minute later.

"Prioritize hostiles with rocket launchers. Open shutters in 3... 2... 1... NOW!" At those words, Zaeed slammed his elbow into a button on the wall, and two panels slid open, revealing the street below. The ten or so aliens down below had barely a second of warning before red light raked their position. As usual, the survivors either ran for cover or attempted to return fire. The latter got off a few shots before being killed, while the former had suppressing fire pin them down. Within seconds, only two aliens remained standing, hiding in an alleyway between two buildings.

"Shit, incoming air strike!" Vido called out. Moments later, the wall exploded as two missiles slammed home, sending the human militiamen tumbling to the floor. With their cover gone, there was nothing left to stop the two alien attack craft from raking the squad with gunfire before pulling away, fleeing to safety before the anti-air lasers could zero in on them. A river of red light cut one of the aircraft out of the sky, while the other dove into one of Shanxi's wider streets, using the buildings as cover as it made its escape.

"We have to get out of here! Enemy artillery incoming!" Vido exclaimed.

"Move!" The old veteran exclaimed, his voice breaking into a series of wet coughs.

"Where to?" Zaeed asked.

"Corner of 16th and 34th, there is an intact structure there." Vido replied, already crawling towards the exit. Zaeed followed suit, the old veteran right behind him. Laser fire mixed with the strange stutter of alien weaponry as one of the militiamen exchanged fire with the remaining aliens in the street. However, a quick check of orbital imaging showed that the aliens had called for reinforcements, as three squads moved to surround the building.

"We'll go... out the north exit..." The old veteran ordered, coughing all the while.

They had just reached the stairs when the laser fire cut off, the soft thump of an armored body hitting the floor reaching Zaeed's ears a moment later. A quick glance showed that, of the eight of them, five had made it out.

They sprinted down the stairs, uncaring of the noise they were making. The aliens already knew where they were, after all, so speed was more important than silence.

"Sir, are you all right?" Zaeed asked, noticing how the old veteran was shaking.

"I'm fine. Superficial." The man choked out unconvincingly.

"Sir, I-"

"I'm fine... Medi-gel will... take care of it." The man replied in between coughing fits. As he spoke, he turned his back to the wall, aiming his rifle towards the nearest exit.

"Alright. Vido, how many are there?" Zaeed asked, turning to face his friend.

"Six on the other side of that door, ten more setting up on 16th street, and five others on 17th." Vido replied. For a moment, nobody spoke, and Zaeed realized they were waiting for orders. When the old veteran did not speak up, Zaeed realized that he too was waiting. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he decided to speak up.

"Anyone have a grenade?" One of the militiamen raised their hand at that.

"Alright. On my order, we open the door and throw it through. As soon as it goes off, we move. Stay alive, we won't have time to go back for wounded." Zaeed said, and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the old veteran nod.

"Understood." Vido replied, evidently coming to the same realization as Zaeed. The rest of the squad chorused their assent moments later.

"Open the door in 3... 2... 1... NOW!" Zaeed ordered, and the door slid open, allowing a plasma grenade to fly through it before it slid shut once more. The building shook slightly at the subsequent blast.

"ALRIGHT, MOVE!" Zaeed shouted, trying his best to imitate the school drill instructor as the door slid open once more. Vido was the first out the door, firing off a burst of laser fire before diving into cover. Zaeed was the fourth out the door, dragging the old veteran with him. An alien machine gun was already blazing away, and Zaeed felt the now familiar stabbing pain of a shot hitting home, followed by the blissful numbing of sedatives as medi-gel did its work. Behind him, the old veteran cried out in pain, jerking several times as shots hit home.

"Grenade out!" One of the militiamen shouted as Zaeed dragged the older man into cover. The machine gun nest went up in a plume of blue-green fire a few seconds later.

"Keep moving!" Zaeed shouted, dragging the old veteran with one hand while shooting with the other, catching an alien entering the alley with a lucky shot. Soon, they emerged onto Sixteenth Street, where the ten aliens had been reduced to three. Behind him, more aliens were already entering the alley, the old veteran firing back at them, hitting one and forcing the others into cover.

"We'll cover you, get to safety!" Vido shouted from behind a cover-plate in the middle of the road, firing off a burst before ducking down to avoid return fire.

"Will do!" Zaeed replied, sprinting for the nearest alley, still dragging the veteran behind him. Alien weapons fire streaked past his head, but fortunately none connected, and he quickly made it to safety. The ground had begun to shake as alien artillery started to hit home, sending the three story structure they had been taking cover in tumbling to the ground, hopefully killing a few aliens as it did so.

One by one, the rest of the squad ran into the alley, the last one in raising the cover-plate and taking cover behind it.

"Good. We made it. Now, our destination is six streets down to the north." Zaeed said, glancing over at the old veteran. The man was trying to prop himself against the cover-plate, but he was not fast enough to conceal his back this time around, and to his horror Zaeed saw that the older man's medi-gel pack was empty. The older man shook his head, and when Zaeed moved to remove his own pack he grabbed his hand.

"Don't waste it... It won't be enough..." The old veteran choked out.

"But-"

"No." The man replied, before handing Zaeed his plasma rifle and drawing his laser pistol.

"I'll cover your retreat. Zaeed, you're in command. Don't let me down." The man ordered, before popping open a panel on the side of his helmet and removing an ID-chip.

"I..." Zaeed began, before nodding.

"Understood, sir. Give 'em hell." He said, taking the ID-chip and slipping it into an empty pocket.

"W-What do we do?" One of the militiamen, Victor Harris, asked, his voice wavering.

"Let's stick to the plan. Six streets to the north." Zaeed said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

"ATTENTION! CIVILIAN SHELTER 4 IS UNDER ATTACK! ALL NEARBY TROOPS ARE TO ASSIST IMMEDIATELY!" The general transmission rang out through the squad's helmets, causing their eyes to widen.

"That's just west of here." Vido murmured.

"Change of plans. We move to Shelter 4." Zaeed ordered.

"What are we waiting for then?" The fourth surviving squad member, Maria Stephanova, asked, fear tinging her voice.

"Nothing. Get moving already!" The old veteran said, shooing them away with one hand.

"Let's go." Zaeed ordered, allowing Vido to point them in the right direction as they ran. As they rounded the corner, weapons fire rang out as the old veteran held the line behind them.

* * *

"One hour to FTL exit. All crew, prepare for atmospheric evacuation." The PA of the _XCS_ _Hamburg_ relayed Admiral Drescher's message to the rest of her fleet. All around her, the bridge sprang into action, donning helmets and pressurizing vacuum suits. Drescher did the same, her helmet sliding smoothly over her short hair, a soft click sounding out as it connected with the rest of the suit. The gloves came on next, followed by pressurization. When no warning lights came on, Drescher breathed a short sigh of relief. The last thing anyone wanted to hear before atmospheric evacuation was the sound of a suit breach alarm.

"Commencing atmospheric evacuation in ten minutes." The automated warning resounded through the ship as alarms began to ring, rousing anyone who may have been dozing at their post. Five minutes later, another warning rang out.

Then, with a loud roar, the air began to exit the room, drawn out by powerful vacuum pumps. Thankfully, the Hamburg was new enough that the pumps didn't suck in loose objects as well. Those were always a pain to scrape off the grates.

Soon, however, the sound began to dim, and after nearly two minutes, it stopped completely. A quick glance over the fleet status holoscreen showed that the rest of the ships had already completed their own atmospheric evacuations.

Beneath her feet, the deck vibrated slightly as thousands of feet ran to battle stations. Point-defense and anti-ship cannons came online, fighters and bombers were crewed, and damage control teams moved into position. With twenty minutes to go until FTL exit, Drescher marked her own ship as combat ready. The rest of the fleet had beat her to the punch, as was expected. None of them carried anywhere near as many fighters as her own ship, after all.

"Open a channel to all ships. It's time to address the fleet." Drescher ordered her XO, who scrambled to obey.

"Attention all ships. Transmissions from Shanxi indicate that the enemy has left the system's satellite network intact. Its sensor readings indicate that the enemy has a large force of warships formed up behind the system's inbound relay, likely thinking we'll be coming out from it. A secondary force is screening what appear to be transport ships in geosynchronous orbit over the Shanxi colony. Our current FTL vector will allow us to exit FTL approximately three light minutes voidward of Shanxi, while the colony is in the middle of its night cycle. This will mean we have three minutes before they spot us." Drescher said, pausing for effect.

"Given how the enemy has split their forces, we will have to split ours. As such, Fleet Admiral Nishida is to take the 65th Battle Fleet to Shanxi Orbit. Your orders are to prevent an enemy evacuation and to support our remaining ground forces from orbit. All other battle fleets are to engage the enemy main force at the relay. All carriers are to launch fighters as soon as FTL exit is complete, then move to the following coordinates along with the 61st Battle Fleet." Drescher ordered, indicating a point thirty light minutes away from Shanxi.

"Meanwhile, all line ships of the 62nd through 64th Battle Fleets are to move to engage the enemy at the relay and prevent them from linking up with their compatriots at Shanxi." Drescher paused again, thinking, before nodding to herself.

"Additionally, due to anomalous reports from the Shanxi defense forces, I am ordering the boarding and capture of the remaining enemy battleship. Fighters from the _Hamburg_ are ordered to disable the vessel's shields and prioritize point defense emplacements. All other fighters are to engage as normal. Light carriers _Poltava_ and _Grunwald,_ you are to provide fighter CAP. Fold your bombers into the _Dresden_ _'s_ attack wings." Drescher finished.

"FTL Exit in five minutes." Her XO spoke up.

"Good. Let's show these aliens the immensity of their mistake!" Drescher replied, eliciting cheers from the rest of the bridge crew.

* * *

Another stimulant injection made its way through Zaeed's body as he fired away, his squad doing the same beside him. Bright red light criss-crossed the darkened avenue that led to the main entrance to the civilian shelter as every Human defender did their best to stop the aliens from breaching the bunker where the children and other non-combatants of the colony were hidden. On the other end of the avenue, three alien tanks burned, blocking the way for the rest of the alien armor, preventing them from entering the avenue.

Artillery rained down on their position, slamming into the lilium overhang above Zaeed's head, occasionally causing chips of paint to fall, but thankfully nothing else.

The aliens had stopped trying to rush the bunker after the first few minutes, and the few that remained in the open avenue hid behind piles of their own dead, taking an occasional pot-shot but nothing else.

A blinding blue-white streak briefly illuminated the night as an anti-tank gun fired, passing through the space between two burnt-out turrets and slamming into the turret of a still active tank. The vehicle's shields flashed, deflecting the initial shot, but they could not stop a second one, and the vehicle's turret went up in a burst of light. As Zaeed looked on, the vehicle's hull began to reverse, moving away and into cover. A black silhouette highlighted against the burning vehicle caught his eye, and he fired off a burst in its direction before ducking back into cover. He looked up as he did so, spotting the glowing dots that denoted enemy aircraft rapidly drawing closer. With a deafening whine, lances of red light stabbed upwards, and the lights began to break away, one of them falling down in flames.

"Enemy is massing for a push! They're getting desperate!" Vido reported, moments before an explosion rang out on the other end of the avenue.

"They've got demolition teams clearing the tank wrecks!" Maria exclaimed.

"Shoot if you see them!" Zaeed replied, although he knew it wouldn't do much.

Another series of detonations obscured the end of the avenue with smoke. Switching to ultraviolet, Zaeed strained to make out the forms of the enemy, barely visible thanks to the lack of sunlight. Then, seconds later, the barrel of a tank cannon emerged from the smoke, flashing once as it sent a round towards the anti-tank gun position. Another AT-gun returned fire, causing the vehicle's shields to flash moments before an anti-tank missile slammed home.

Everyone was firing now, red and green light illuminating silhouettes inside the enemy smokescreen. Zaeed zeroed in on one, firing off a long burst before ducking into cover.

Another tank had entered the avenue, a third and fourth close behind, advancing in front of the enemy infantry. The second anti-tank gun went up in flames as one of their shots hit home, while another tank began targeting the cover plates, killing the infantry hiding behind them with well-placed shots. Missiles flew back at them, and one of the tanks went up in flames, but machine guns zeroed in on the launch points, suppressing the shooters until the remaining tanks could take them out.

"Take out the machine gunners!" Zaeed ordered, spotting an alien standing out of its tank, its upper half exposed while it blazed away. A laser shot took him out with minimal fuss.

"Zaeed, I'm getting... You won't believe this!" Vido exclaimed.

"Hit me!" Zaeed replied.

"Reinforcements are here! The entire Sixth goddamn Grand Fleet is here!" Vido exclaimed.

"Goddamn... Well, let's give them something to save! Spread the word!" Zaeed cheered, just as a Human tank entered the avenue, its laser cannons cutting down the alien infantry where they stood, while its main gun demolished one of its alien opposite numbers. The tide of battle had turned, and the aliens were in full retreat. Zaeed bit down on his urge to order a charge. Those were great for propaganda, but as far as he knew nobody was filming, and the aliens still outnumbered him.

Soon, the shooting had stopped, although weapons fire still echoed through the colony from more distant engagements. Sighing in exhaustion, Zaeed allowed himself to collapse against a nearby cover plate, the exhaustion of the past few days making itself known, at least until another stimulant injection forced him back to his feet. As he did so, he glanced up at the sky, wondering which of the lights were friendly, and which were not.

"We made it." Vido sighed.

"Yeah, we did." Zaeed replied.

"It's not over yet. There are still aliens in the colony." Maria warned.

"From here on out, it's all mop-up, right?" Victor asked.

"Nah, the regiments are still in transit. It will be hours before they land." Vido replied.

"Then it's settled. We stay here and guard this shelter. We don't leave unless ordered to or relief arrives." Zaeed said, and the rest of the squad... his squad.

* * *

The ships exited FTL in perfect formation, and in perfect formation they split in two. The deck hummed beneath Adrian Garret's feet as the mighty engines of the _Hamburg_ powered up, rotating the two kilometer long ship around as he hurried for his fighter. The aforementioned vehicle, a pristine, factory fresh F-309G Hurricane II, stood in its launch alcove, while crewmen ran around it, performing one last set of checks. One even had the courtesy to pop open the cockpit as he approached.

Leaping into the cockpit, he strapped himself in, the cockpit closing over him, bathing him in darkness for a moment before the screen lit up, allowing him to see his surroundings once more.

"Attention all pilots. You know your duties, prepare for launch." The announcement resounded through his ears as the impulse interface connected with his suit. Already, the fighter was being lifted up onto the launch deck, its platform spinning as it oriented the craft to face the rear of the carrier. He passed through one catapult chamber, then another, and another, until finally he reached the correct one. The hexagonal shaft glowed a dark red, the color going magnificently with the black void outside the ship.

"Reactor online. Engines beginning warm-up sequence." The fighter's Assistant notified him in its monotone voice, the craft shaking slightly as it did so.

"Engines ready. Inertial dampeners operational. IFF online. Sensors online and fully functional. Countermeasures online. Weapons online. All missiles reporting functional. Shields activated." The Assistant ran through the pre-flight checks. When it finished, the lights in the catapult shaft changed to yellow.

"Brace for acceleration. Activate all necessary gene mods now." The Assistant ordered, and Adrian complied. The next few seconds passed as agonizing hours, before finally the lights slowly changed to green, and the fighter began to accelerate. It seemed like an eternity before it finally exited the catapult shaft, but in reality not even a second had passed before the fighter shot out of its shaft, surrounded by hundreds more like it. Quickly linking up with his designated squadron, Adrian followed his lead through a turn around the immense bulk of the _Hamburg,_ the fighters spreading out as they did so.

Finally, his squadron lead allowed for him to relax his gene mods, as even without them enabled the flight would take hours.

"Attention all fighters, this is EWACS, callsign Juror. They know we're here, and they're launching fighters of their own. Your job is to take them out, understood? Eliminate the enemy CAP and cover the bombers in their run on the enemy battleship. If possible, hit targets of opportunity as well, but do not take unnecessary risks, over." The voice of the EWACS controller was somewhat youthful, but then again, so was his. The _Hamburg_ was fresh out of the shipyard, with a crew barely out of the naval academy. This would be Adrian's first combat mission outside of the simulator, and his heart was racing.

Finally, the order came to reactivate his gene mods, and he did so, not wanting to ram an enemy warship due to slow natural reaction times.

"Enemy CAP flying out! They're entering missile range in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..." As the Juror counted down, Adrian was already locking on to his first target.

"Keep your eyes peeled, enemy numbers are unusually low. Juror, keep an eye out for stealth craft, over." The squadron leader ordered.

"Roger. Will do." Juror replied as the tone of a missile lock sounded out in Adrian's ears.

"Fox-2! Fox-2!" Adrian called out. Then, a second later, he cheered.

"This is Magnum Three, I got one!" The enemy fighter didn't even attempt to evade it seemed. He tried to lock onto another, but already the void was blooming with explosions as missiles met their marks, the visible enemy fighters quickly vanishing from his display faster than his radar could switch targets.

"All visible enemy fighters destroyed... Magnum Squadron, launch a few missiles at one of their ships, let's try to draw the cloakers out, over." The squadron leader ordered, and Adrian complied, firing off a pair of missiles at a nearby frigate, barely visible in the distance even with his enhanced vision.

"And... Impact. Check six! Juror, you see anything, over?"

"Negative, nothing, all clear, over."

"Copy that. Magnum Squadron, fall back to the bombers, over."

"Roger." Adrian promptly wheeled his fighter around and sped back to where the bombers were approaching their targets.

"Keep you eyes peeled, the enemy can decloak at any moment, over." However, no cloaked fighters appeared to fall upon the bombers.

"Juror, are you seeing this? There's... nothing here... over!"

"Negative on any cloak signatures. If I didn't know any better, I'd say we got them all, over."

"Uh... Attention all fighters, this is Javelin Squadron, we're first in line for attack runs on the enemy battleship, and we'd appreciate if some of you could ID the enemy point defense guns for us, over."

"Roger that Javelin Squadron, this is Magnum Squadron. We're going in, over."

"Good luck, over."

"You too, over and out."

"Alright, you heard me. Let's go find some point defense guns. Keep eyes out for cloakers, over." The squadron leader ordered, and Adrien spun around once more, speeding back towards the alien fleet.

"Awfully quiet around here. Shouldn't they be shooting now?" Magnum 4's voice sounded out over the comm link as the enemy fleet drew closer and closer.

"That's what concerns me." The squadron leader replied. For a while, everything was quiet, before the loud alarm that signified shield damage suddenly echoed through Adrian's cockpit.

"Incoming fire!" He shouted, throwing his craft into a series of evasive maneuvers, getting himself out of the way of whatever the aliens were shooting at him.

"Lasers, either infrared or ultraviolet like the ones back at the academy." The squadron leader muttered as he too began to evade.

Now, the enemy fleet was close enough that he could start to make out the shapes of individual warships. The biggest was, of course, the alien battleship, which stood out among its escorts like a whale among minnows on Adrian's sensor HUD.

"Close with target. Hold fire, shields are still up, over." The squadron lead ordered.

"Roger that. Closing." Adrian replied, before pulling up his Assistant.

"ID any sources of incoming fire and transmit the data to EWACS Juror." He ordered.

"Orders confirmed." The Assistant replied as he began to slowly turn until he was flying on a parallel course to the alien battleship. Already, red circles were appearing on its hull, signifying the positions of visible point defense guns.

"Magnum, this is Javelin. We're receiving the data, commencing attack run." The transmission crackled through the cockpit, and a quick check of the rear sensors showed that the bombers were accelerating. Already, the blue blips of missiles were streaking from their payload bays, heading straight for their target. There was no way the giant enemy warship could evade, not at the range that they had foolishly allowed the bombers to close to.

Then, the missiles slammed into their target, the warship's shields flashing as the bombers fired again, the second volley of missiles slamming home moments before the bombers streaked past.

"Shields are still up, heading around for another pass." Javelin's voice came again, but the next bomber flight was already launching its own missiles.

* * *

A Turian general was expected to be the elite of the elite. They were expected to be an example to examples, ideal warriors and commanders alike. They were expected to stare into the face of certain doom without flinching. Back in the old days, before the Turians ever reached to space, their generals wore blue garments to hide their wounds, a tradition that continued into the Citadel era. The position was a symbol of composure and endurance as much as it was of command acumen.

However, when Desolas began hearing reports of hundreds of alien warships, all of them matching the signatures of those he had fought upon his entry into the system, exiting FTL, his composure cracked. The datapad fell from his hands as he leaned against a nearby bulkhead, willing his suddenly weak legs to support his frame once more.

Then, the crack was gone, replaced by the composed mask of command once more. He stood and picked up his datapad, before addressing his adjutant, who stood waiting beside him.

"Order the fleet around the colony to begin immediate evacuation. As soon as the transports are at a safe jump point, have them micro-jump to the relay and get out of here. Order them to spread the word that the aliens are coming. Order all warships around the planet to cover the transports with their lives. Once they are all away, have them micro-jump to the relay and escape. The rest of our fleet will act as bait. Once the transports are away, we micro-jump to the outbound relay and get out of here... And tell the _Shield of Palaven_ to send a message to the Council. This is not a battle we can win." He ordered, drawing nervous looks from the bridge crew of the small frigate he now occupied.

The _Persarius_ was a fine ship, equipped with the latest weapons and technology. It could outrun practically any other ship in the fleet, but more importantly, it was inconspicuous. That was why Desolas had transferred his flag to the smaller ship, rather than remain on the _Shield of Palaven_. In order for a commander to command, he had to remain alive, and remaining on the dreadnought would have been counter-productive to his goals.

"Sir, our forces in orbit are seeing small craft being launched... Hundreds of them!" The communications officer reported.

"Launch our own. Order them to screen our ships as best they can." Desolas ordered calmly.

"Understood." The officer replied, transmitting the order. All around the fleet, hangar bays opened and fighters streamed out, taking up defensive formations around the larger capital ships.

"Ready the GARDIAN arrays. I want all of them firing as soon as the enemy fighters are in range."

"Yes sir!"

The minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace before finally the sensors officer spoke up.

"Their light wave has reached us. We can see them. Light speed lag is approximately forty three minutes... Sir, you're not going to like this." He spoke up.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Desolas asked.

"Enemy fleet is confirmed to possess dreadnoughts... I'm picking up five that seem to be acting in an analogous role to our own, along with multiple smaller vessels that would classify as dreadnoughts under Farixen displacement laws. Additionally, there are multiple other dreadnought-mass ships that seem to be acting anomalously. They seem to be acting as launch platforms for hundreds of small craft, and do not appear to possess heavy weaponry." Desolas swore at the news.

"Damn. Regardless, our plan is unchanged. We hold the line until the transports have either evacuated or are all gone. What of the small craft? Where are they?" Desolas asked.

"They're mainly heading for our main force, although there is a smaller force on course towards the planet."

"Very well. Have the forces around the planet launched fighters?"

"They have, sir. They have also recalled all fighters from the atmosphere to assist."

"Good."

Once again, it was time to wait. Once again, it was the communications officer who brought him bad news.

"Sir... Enemy small craft have engaged the fleet in orbit. All fighter forces confirmed lost. Multiple transports destroyed, exact number unknown. Cruisers _Varia_ and _Lieren_ are lost. Multiple frigates confirmed destroyed, exact number still being determined. All surviving warships in planetary orbit are reporting varying degrees of battle damage.

"Status on evacuation?"

"First wave of transports is taking off from the surface. Estimated time to jump is 2 minutes."

"Will they make it?"

"Yes. The enemy capital ships will not arrive in time to stop them."

"And the ground troops? How many have made it?"

"Taetrus Third is reporting thirty percent of survivors evacuated. Palaven Nineteenth is reporting ten percent."

"Can another transport wave make it?"

"Possibly, but they will be cutting it close." The sensors officer replied. Desolas turned to the comms officer.

"Send a message to General Orinia. Tell her that the next wave of transports is the last one with a significant chance of making it off world."

"Yes sir."

"Sir, main force of small craft is decelerating." The sensors officer reported.

"ETA?"

"Ten minutes."

"Sir, first wave of transports is away. They are jumping to the relay now. Second wave has landed."

"Good." Desolas sighed in relief.

"Sir, the _Shield of Palaven_ has gotten a response from Councilor Barakis. He wishes to know the disposition of the enemy force.

"Send him our sensor readings and patch him into our combat network. He needs to know what we face first-hand."

"Understood." The Comms officer relayed his orders. Then, a few moments later, a spotty hologram of Councilor Barakis appeared in the frigate's CIC.

"What is the situation, General?" The Councilor asked.

"Evacuation of regiments on the planet is in progress. First wave of transports has reached the relay and the second should be taking off any minute." Desolas reported.

"Sir, enemy capital ships have engaged our remaining warships in orbit! Cruiser _Thisai_ lost! Cruiser _Barian_ lost! Frigate _Kenerag_ lost! Transport _Dar-332_ lost!" The sensors officer began, rattling off the casualties as fast as he could.

"Order the second wave of transports to take off, NOW!"

"Yes sir!" The shaken voice of the comms officer replied as the sensors officer continued rattling off name after name.

"Sir, our fighter patrols are moving to intercept the enemy!"

"What? No! Recall them now! They'll die like-"

"Enemy craft launching missiles!"

"Order them to evade, now!" Desolas cried, knowing that it was in vain.

"Missiles hitting... Fighter screen... wiped out?" The sensors officer's voice was hollow in disbelief.

"First wave of enemy craft is turning back. They're linking up with others."

"What is going on?" Barakis demanded.

"We're under attack, that's what's going on! All ships, commence evasive maneuvers! Expect incoming torpedoes! All GARDIAN arrays, fire at will!" Desolas screamed.

"Enemy fighters have turned around, they're about to enter GARDIAN range!"

"I have a lock, firing!" One of the gunnery officers exclaimed.

"They're heading for the _Shield of Palaven_!"

"Enemy capital ships at five light minutes and closing! They are decelerating!"

"Enemy fighters are holding fire... Additional enemy craft are entering GARDIAN range. They're lining up on the _Shield_!"

"Bombers. Order all pursuit frigates to break formation and engage them."

"Missile launches detected!"

" _Shield of Palaven_ hit! Superficial damage."

"Missile launches!"

" _Shield of Palaven_ hit! Superficial damage."

"Enemy bombers have passed... Another wave incoming!"

"Missile launches!"

" _Shield of Palaven_ hit... Its shields are critical!"

"Missile launches!"

" _Shield of Palaven_ hit! It is reporting multiple hull breaches."

"What are our GARDIAN arrays doing?" Desolas demanded.

"Enemy fighters coming around! They're moving too fast for our GARDIANs to track at this range!"

"They're going for... _Shield of Palaven_ is reporting heavy damage to its GARDIAN arrays! Fifty percent coverage lost!"

"More bombers! They're heading for the _Terent_! Missile launches!"

"Cruiser _Terent_ reporting heavy damage!"

"Frigate _Nosis_ lost!"

As the bridge dissolved into chaos, Desolas could only stare as the enemy fighters and bombers tore into his fleet with ruthless efficiency.

"Second wave of transports is away... Third wave of transports is coming under fire from orbit. All other transports are being engaged."

"Continue evacuations! We cannot abandon our men on that planet!" Desolas ordered.

"Enemy fleet distance: Three light minutes!"

"Bombers incoming! Missile launches, brace for impac-" Whatever the officer was about to say was cut off as the ship shook.

"Port side antimatter lines breached! Jettisoning fuel!"

"Hull breach on Deck Three, sealing airtight doors! Electrical fires in Corridor Six! Damage control, put it out!"

"Reactor... Remains functional. Sealing off reactor room to prevent spread of fires."

As the reports of damage continued to echo through the room, the list of destroyed ships continued to grow, the sensors officer having delegated that particular job to a VI.

"Cruiser _Sision_ lost. Cruiser _Thassaly_ lost. Frigate _Ispis_ lost."

"Enemy fleet distance... THEY'RE FIRING!"

"Status on evacuation?" Desolas demanded.

"Ninety three... Ninety five percent casualties among transport forces. All warships in orbit lost."

"Torpedoes sighted! They're heading for the _Shield of Palaven!_ Impact in twenty seconds!"

"All ships, prepare for micro jump! We're done here!" Desolas ordered.

"Torpedoes impacting, negative damage... Wait..."

"What is it?" Desolas demanded.

"Boarding parties reported on the _Shield of Palaven..._ Marine compliment is attempting containment."

"Damn! Change of plans, all ships, screen the _Shield of Palaven_! As soon as boarders are repelled, micro jump to the relay!" Desolas shouted.

"Frigate _Prarian_ lost."

"Cruiser _Caranicas_ is reporting crippling damage. It is heading for the relay."

"Cruiser _Caranicas_ lost."

"Enemy frigates have broken through vanguard line! They're heading for the _Shield of Palaven_!"

"General, what do we do?" His adjutant asked, eyes wide in fear, looking more like an unblooded trainee than a veteran of hundreds of skirmishes and fleet actions. For once, Desolas did not know what to do. His forces were melting away before his eyes, and the most recent transmission from his former flagship indicated failure to contain the boarders.

"All ships, jump to the relay. As soon as we cross, be prepared to dock with the _Shield of Palaven_ and assist with counter-boarding action."

"Understood... Wait... Sir, Shield of Palaven reports inability to jump. Enemy frigate is within the danger zone. Automated failsafes are preventing FTL escape!" The comms officer exclaimed.

"FUCK! Focus fire on that frigate!" Desolas cursed.

"Belay that order. Target the _Shield of Palaven_. It cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands." Barakis ordered.

"But... Yes sir. Shift target to the _Shield of Palaven._ May the spirits forgive us for what we are about to do." Desolas said, voice hollow.

"Yes sir." The gunnery officer murmured, his voice lost among the din of the bridge.

* * *

"Enemy ships have opened fire on their own battleship. First volley impacting in ten seconds." One of the _Hamburg_ 's sensor officers reported, a monotone Assistant reading off kills in the background.

"Order the fleet to prioritize ships firing on the enemy battleship. We cannot allow this opportunity to slip through our fingers." Drescher ordered.

"First volley has impacted. Damage to enemy battleship estimated to be minor."

"Casualties among marine teams?" Drescher asked.

"Minor. All frigates are docking and deploying reinforcements." One of the tactical officers replied.

"Good. Status of interdiction fields?" Drescher asked.

"All interdictor ships are reporting fields active. That should keep them from jumping away."

"Excellent..." Drescher replied, her focus never leaving the system holomap. Something was wrong, she mused. This was too easy. No Ethereal fleet would have been torn apart this quickly. Not even the Vipers, who had fought with a mix of outdated hand-me-down Ethereal tech and indigenously produced gear, had been so easily swept aside.

"Something's wrong. I can feel it." Her XO gave voice to her thoughts.

"I know, but until whatever it is makes itself known, all we can do is kill what we see. Status of the psi-amp?" Drescher asked.

"Charged and ready to fire." The ship's psionics officer reported.

"Good. Order the psions to fire a wide-area insanity pulse at the enemy fleet. Order them to avoid the alien battleship. With this many targets I don't trust them to successfully differentiate friend from foe with their level of experience." Drescher ordered.

"Understood." The officer replied, and relayed the order.

The hairs on Drescher's neck stood up as the _Hamburg_ 's psionic amp fired, and despite their conditioning the entire bridge crew couldn't help but look behind them, the sensation of invisible eyes watching from just outside their field of view being too strong.

Faster than light itself, the immaterial violet wave of psionic energy pulsed through the ship before streaming towards its targets.

"All psions reporting success. Alien mindsets classified as malleable... Order focused, clear chain of command. Easy pickings." The psionics officer reported.

"Surviving enemy ships are breaking formation, they're firing on each other. It does not appear like this fleet possesses a cerebrate." The sensors officer added.

"Odd. Still, I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth." Drescher replied.

"Enemy ship... Enemy cruiser has jumped!" One of the sensors officer exclaimed.

"What? What's the status of our interdictor fields?" Drescher demanded.

"All reporting as online."

"Damn. Order all ships to continue firing, let's take a few more with us before they wise up and get out of here." Drescher ordered.

* * *

Aboard the bridge of the _Persarius,_ Desolas screamed, clutching his head with both hands as blood leaked from his ears. Dimly, he could hear the screams of the other officers as they suffered similar fates, while weapons fire was just barely audible outside the sealed bridge door.

"General! What is going on?" Barakis demanded. Desolas ignored the nuisance as he slowly struggled to his feet, his fingers bleeding from where he had torn claws loose while scratching at his neck.

"General! Help... Me..." His adjutant moaned from where he lay in a puddle of his own vomit.

"What are you blathering about? On your feet! The battle is far from over!" Desolas roared in response.

"But... I c-can't!" The officer moaned, before retching up some more bile. Disgraceful. Furious at the officer's insubordination, Desolas drew his service pistol and calmly took aim at the adjutant's head, ignoring the voice in his head that screamed for him not to. Without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger, only to hear a click.

The safety was on. What a pity. Calmly, he moved to disable it, only for his hand to freeze. What was he doing? Punishing an insubordinate officer, of course! There was only one punishment for such disobedience and that was death!

But then, why couldn't he pull the trigger.

"Desolas! Answer me! What are you doing? What is happening?" Barakis screamed. Furious, Desolas spun around, disabling the safety and firing a shot clean through the hologram's head.

"What are you doing?" Barakis screamed from the other side of the holo-link. Desolas blinked at that. What was he doing?

Then the ship shook, as alien munitions impacted somewhere along its hull. Nobody told him the damage, but Desolas knew that it was bad. He had to save his crew, he had to-! The idea came to him.

Leaping over to the communications console, he backhanded the comms officer away as he tried to bite him. Opening a channel to all ships, he spoke.

"The battle is lost! Flee! Flee for your lives! Run to the relay! To stay is to die! Run away, now! Keep running until you reach Palaven! Do not stop! Abandon hope and pray! Flee, now!" He screamed, before, leaving the channel open, he turned to the helmsman at the front of the bridge.

"Helm! Take us to the relay! The battle is lost!" He shouted, ignoring Barakis' indignant shouting in the background.

However, the helmsman did not respond. Sprinting over to him, Desolas' eyes widened as he saw the man slowly and calmly steering the ship towards a gutted wreck that had once been a cruiser.

"Cease this behavior at once! Take us to the relay!" Desolas ordered.

"No! My brother was on that ship! I have to save him!" The man wept, his words contrasting with the manic smile on his face.

"If you will not follow my orders, you might as well join your brother!" Desolas roared, swinging his pistol around and firing three shots into his helmsman's head, before pushing the cooling corpse out of its chair. Trying his hardest to remember the lessons from his time in the Palaven Naval Academy, Desolas plugged the coordinates for the system's outbound relay into the ship's jump planner and slammed his fist into the jump button. Then, the noise stopped, replaced by an eerie silence as the ship exited FTL a few moments later.

"Desolas! Explain yourself!" Barakis shouted. For a while, Desolas did not respond, choosing instead to stare at the body of the helmsman he had just killed. Finally, he spoke.

"Adjutant... Status report." He said, voice low.

"Damage control teams are reporting heavy casualties. The marines on Deck Three suddenly opened fire on them... Atmosphere on Deck Four is gone, someone in life support vented it. Fires on Deck Three have escaped containment. Port-side antimatter storage is gone, thankfully the automated safety systems were able to dump it without an issue. We're down to one engine, but it should be enough." The adjutant replied, shakily getting to his feet and looking over the shoulder of the damage control head, who was lying slumped against his console.

With that out of the way, Desolas turned to Barakis.

"Councilor, the enemy appears to possess a weapon capable of turning us against each other. I am ordering all survivors of this debacle, myself included, to undergo extensive psychological evaluation to ascertain if they are still fit for duty. Helm, get us..." Desolas trailed off, looking back at the corpse as Barakis' hologram flickered away.

"We're getting out of here. I'll take us through the relay." He finished, before turning back to the bridge console and sending the transit request. A few moments later, the ship was through the relay, appearing in the midst of a handful of transports and frigates in various states of disrepair.

"Attention all crew of the frigate _Persarius._ By order of the Primarch, you are to report to Palaven immediately. Upon arrival, your ship is to be impounded, and you all are to be placed under investigation for dereliction of duty. Failure to acknowledge and comply will be considered desertion and punished accordingly." The transmission echoed through the bridge, coming from one of the many hundreds of Turian warships that formed a cordon around Relay 314.

"General? What do we do?" The adjutant exclaimed.

"Put me through to their flagship." Desolas replied, walking back to the holo-comm. A few seconds later, the hologram of a Turian officer appeared.

"What is- General Arterius?" The officer exclaimed upon recognizing his rank insignia.

"Yes. Put me through to your commanding officer." At that, the other Turian nodded, and a few minutes later another general entered the holo-field.

"General Arterius... I am afraid that, no matter what you say, my orders are absolute. You will report to Palaven and stand trial." The other general said.

"Is there nothing I can do to convince you otherwise? My ships could be useful for the defense of this relay." Desolas replied. The other general just sniffed in disgust.

"A few battered transports and crippled frigates will only get in the way. Report to Palaven at once." He said.

"I see. I guess I can only wish you luck in the coming battle. You will need it." Desolas said.

"Luck is irrelevant. I have my ships posted in perfect ambush formation around the relay, and reinforcements are inbound from Sur'Kesh. The numerical advantage is certain to be ours, and with competent leadership, we will prevail."

"I can only pray that you're telling the truth, and that you are indeed competent enough to stop those monsters at 314. Good luck. I will order my fleet, or what remains of it, to Palaven." With those words, Desolas cut the channel.

"Adjutant, relay the orders to the surviving captains. We head to Palaven. Helm... Can someone take over for the helmsman already? We don't want to keep the Primarch waiting." Desolas replied, walking back over to his spot above the system map.

Another officer scurried into place at the helm, casting a nervous look at the corpse beside it. Then, the ship began to move, leading the tattered remnants of the Turian Seventh Fleet towards the outbound relay.

* * *

Once more, the sky of Shanxi was awash with streaks of light. As the sun began to rise, illuminating the ruined colony, Zaeed looked up once more to see the falling debris that had once been alien warships entering the atmosphere, mixing in with the fireballs that were incoming drop pods.

Weapons fire still echoed sporadically through the colony, as the aliens that were unlucky enough to miss the frantic evacuation fought to the last. Already, two waves of fresh Human troops had landed, and more were on their way, ensuring that the once desperate battle was now little more than a mop-up.

A few bright green flashes suddenly erupted from the north, drawing Zaeed's attention as the ships in orbit spotted and eliminated another alien position. Evidently, some of them had survived, even after several hours of continuous bombardment.

A roar from above suddenly resounded through the avenue, as three immense drop-pods braked for landing. One came down on top of a wrecked alien tank, its engines melting the ruined vehicle before the pod crushed its remains. A squad of troops disembarked, running to cover before the drop pod lifted off once more, returning to orbit to take on another load.

One of the newly disembarked soldiers turned to face him.

"Hey, is there anything left here?" He asked.

"I'm afraid not. They retreated from here a few hours ago and we haven't seen any of them since." Zaeed replied, moments before an alien rifle chattered. One of the soliders' shields sparked as the hostile fire hit home. Then, twenty plasma rifles barked in unison, returning fire. The alien shooting cut off.

"Looks like you didn't get all of them." The soldier commented. Zaeed shrugged in response.

"What can I say? The fucker probably was too badly wounded to run away with his friends." He answered.

"Can't say I'm not impressed though. A colony as small as this, holding off so many xenos? You'd be forgiven for missing one or two here and there." The soldier replied, walking over to the shelter entrance.

"Did they get through?" He asked.

"Nope. None of them made it to the entrance." Zaeed replied.

"Well done then. Hopefully we can finish the mop-up and let the kids out again. Being all cooped up in there can't be very pleasant." The soldier replied.

"A few years ago I would have been in there." Zaeed replied.

"We grow up so fast, don't we? I just hope the kids aren't too trigger happy. Won't be the first time a six year old panicked and shot at human troops."

"Speaking from experience?" Zaeed asked.

"Yeah. My grandpa got a wound badge from a trigger-happy kid out on the Perseus front. Mop up was over and they were cracking open the shelters, only one of them had its PA system offline. Next thing he knows, boom! A little kid, less than half your size, caught him with a machine gun." The soldier laughed.

"Ouch. Let's hope it doesn't happen here." Zaeed replied.

"So what do we do now?" Vido asked.

"We wait for orders, of course." The man replied, raising and settling down behind a cover-plate.

"What about when the mop-up is over?" Zaeed asked.

"Oh, there will probably be a ceremony for the dead. After that, you're all in Highcom's hands. Kids your age will probably be sent to Luna, since your colony doesn't appear to have a regimental academy. Younger ones might get another year or so here before getting the same treatment. The colony itself will probably get flagged for repopulation once repairs are done. Hopefully it will be built up a bit more though. With aliens on the other side of the relay, this place should be a fortress." The soldier answered.

"What? Luna? Why not something closer like Horton?" Zaeed asked.

"Look, you aren't even at draft age and you have combat experience. More importantly, you've won your first engagement. Highcom's been known to ship people to Luna just for surviving and evacuating in time, and here you are with a solid victory under your belt. You're definitely going to Luna. Hell, you might even catch the attention of the Earth First." Zaeed gasped at that.

"The Earth First? Really?" He exclaimed. He had every right to. After all, the Earth First was hands-down the most illustrious of all of Humanity's armed forces. While many regiments from Earth could trace their origins back to the Third Ethereal War, the Earth First was the only one formed during the Second one. Keeping to its roots as a guerilla unit, the Earth First rarely fought together, but even broken up it was a force to be reckoned with, serving as one of Humanity's most elite special forces regiments.

"Don't get your hopes up, kid. Even with combat experience you still have to make the cut. But don't worry, even if you wash out you'll get into a nice position in one of the other Solar regiments." The man replied. For a moment, Zaeed thought he would say more, but then the man paused.

"Alright kid, I should get going. There's an alien unit a few blocks east of here and they want my unit to flank around." With those words, the man ran back to his troops, relayed orders to them, and led them to meet the enemy.

His words, however, reverberated within Zaeed's head. The Earth First? It was almost too good to be true. His logical self told him firmly that he would not make the cut, that the regiment was incredibly selective, but even with those thoughts in mind it took Vido several tries to snap him out of his daydreams and push his head back into cover.

* * *

 **A/N: It's done. The Shanxi battle went through a lot of iterations before I finally settled on the current version, with the first involving a lot more Council ships and races. I eventually shelved that plan for a later battle, as I wanted to save the truly epic engagements for more important worlds.**

 **To be honest, I didn't really like writing the curbstomp battle, but if I want to get the most out of the council, I have to put them under stress, and what greater way of doing so than killing off the majority of a Turian fleet? Still, I will repeat my earlier statement that, if you want an incompetent Council, you have come to the wrong place.**

 **Once again, any criticisms you have are appreciated. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing style.**

 **On another note, I originally planned to include another character's PoV in order to detail and describe the boarding of the Shield of Palaven and the combat that ensued inside it between Turian and Human marines. However, while I did cut it to prevent the Battle of Shanxi from dragging on for any more chapters, I put too much thought into it to scrap it entirely, and as such I plan to release it as a side story. My question to you all is, should I include it in the main fic, or release it in a separate side story collection? This collection will not be updated regularly, of course, so as not to take too much time away from the main story.**

 **As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, et cetera. This fic has just broken the 1000 follow barrier, surpassing all my other works. I hope you all continue to enjoy it.**


	7. Chapter 5: Planning for the Future

**A/N: Funnily enough, it was XCOM 2 that stalled this chapter out. I've started a Long War 2 playthrough, you see, and ADVENT has rocketeers now! Word of advice, shoot the orange flavored ADVENT first, or you won't have much of a squad left to regret it. Also, screw civilians. I know it turns XCOM into the terrorists that ADVENT claims them to be, but after five of your operations get ruined by a civilian hiding behind a statue you start to see them less as people to be protected and more as mobile ADVENT detection towers. Moral of the story: If you have to choose between a 40% shot against one alien and a rocket that kills five aliens and ten civilians, fire the rocket and feel no remorse. They were all collaborators anyway.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Planning for the Future**

 _"The combined Turian-Salarian fleets have failed to stop the enemy at Relay 314. Effect on enemy force is to be considered negligible. I have ordered a general retreat of all Salarian forces remaining. The Turians are already dead." -_ Final transmission of Dalatrass Lanasa, Admiral of the Salarian First Fleet.

When General Dekrian destroyed a fleet five times the size of his own in the Battle of Carthaan, his name went down in history as one of the greatest Turian naval commanders of the Unification Wars. The tactics he used were likewise immortalized, and his battles were endlessly dissected and studied at Palaven Naval Academy, which also bore his name. The Battle of Carthaan, his most famous victory, was won thanks to his positioning of his fleet behind the mass relay's exit zone, allowing him to target the enemy force's engines while simultaneously avoiding their spinal guns. To make matters worse for the attackers, FTL drives were temporarily disabled by the relay transition, preventing defensive micro-jumping.

General Siloris was determined to repeat this victory at Relay 314. From the bridge of his flagship, the _Steadfast,_ he commanded a fleet that was easily ten times the size of Dekrian's, and significantly more advanced. More importantly, he had allies in the form of the Salarian First Fleet, which was positioned in the shadow of one of the system's two barren, rocky planets. The plan was for the Turian fleet to ambush the aliens as they came through the relay, forcing them into close-range combat to negate their reported standoff range advantage. Once the alien fleet was tied up, the Salarians would jump in and overwhelm the enemy.

Three days had passed since the ragged remnants Desolas' fleet had limped through the mass relay, and no pursuit came. That meant that either the aliens were too scared to test their luck, or were planning something big. If the latter was the case, Siloris mused, he would have to expect a reasonably competent commander on the enemy side. Such a commander would not arrogantly charge in after scoring such a crushing victory against Desolas' incompetence, and was probably consolidating its forces on the opposite side of the relay.

"Sir, the relay is lighting up! Enemy forces jumping through! Firing!" Siloris merely nodded as the _Steadfast_ shuddered beneath his feet, sending its first shot into an enemy cruiser that had just barely jumped into the system. At such a close range, and at such an excellent angle, there was no excuse for missing, and indeed the shot hit home. All around him, the entire Turian fleet opened fire, hundreds of guns focused on the enemy fleet's vanguard. Several of those ships went up in flames, their shields quickly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of firepower sent towards them, and their hulls perforated by high speed tungsten slugs.

Several seconds later, the relay entry zone was clear, save for a few drifting hulks, as to his astonishment the remaining enemy ships executed a micro-FTL jump. Two seconds later, they reappeared on sensors, just as a second wave of warships jumped through the relay. They must have been in contact with the first wave, as not even a second passed before they too had jumped away, joining their comrades.

"Task Force Three, jump to engage the enemy-" Siloris ordered, just as a bright white flash of light momentarily illuminated the bridge.

"Cruiser _Thashi_ lost." The tactical VI reported as Task Force Three jumped away.

"More ships coming through the relay... Spirits, there's a lot of them! They're jumping away!" Indeed, hundreds of blips briefly flashed into existence on the holographic system map, before vanishing and reappearing somewhere else. Some went to join the vanguard force, which had entered into a furious exchange of fire with Task Force Three, while others went in the opposite direction. Of that second force, one blip in particular stood out.

"Enemy dreadnought confirmed." His XO reported.

"Task Forces Two and Four, engage enemy dreadnought and escorts." Siloris replied, just as another wave of enemy warships entered the system. This time, they jumped

"Enemy dreadnoughts! Three of them with full escorting fleets!" The XO reported, fear creeping into his voice. Siloris simply nodded. A quick glance at the relay entry zone confirmed his suspicion that the enemy had committed everything it had, likely in an attempt at intimidation.

"Contact the Salarians. Tell them that the relay containment plan has failed. They are clear to engage at their discretion. All remaining task forces are to follow the flagship and jump to reinforce Task Force Three. We'll clean up there, then jump to assist Two and Four."

"Understood." The comms officer replied, before relaying his orders.

"Small craft are launching from the three dreadnoughts. They're heading right for us." The XO reported.

"FTL drives ready, coordinates are locked in. Ready to jump on your order." The navigator reported.

"Jump. Gunners, prepare for broadside combat. We will not be engaging at standoff range if at all possible." Siloris ordered. As he finished speaking, the _Steadfast_ shuddered and jumped to FTL, exiting a moment later within close visual range of one of the alien cruisers. The dagger shaped vessel blazed with eerie blue-green light as it traded blows with a pair of Turian cruisers. As Siloris looked on, one of the Turian vessels lost its shields, and was quickly gutted by a follow up volley. Even as fires blazed all across its hull, a few operational turrets continued to return fire, albeit inaccurately, as the ship slewed to the side, propelled by venting atmosphere. Another volley promptly slammed into the crippled ship, shattering it into several pieces. Even then, two turrets continued to fire wildly in the general direction of their foe, bereft of all fire control but still in the fight.

"Cruiser _Fengiu_ lost." The tactical VI recorded the cruiser's destruction.

Then, the _Steadfast_ opened fire, its seventy two broadside guns focusing fire on the enemy cruiser, while the other seventy two locked onto another cruiser several hundred kilometers away. The ship shuddered slightly as the spinal cannon fired at what seemed to be a pocket dreadnought, the main cannon shot followed up by a barrage of missiles as targeting officers emptied several of the dreadnought's underwing munitions racks. Almost immediately, blue beams of light lanced forward from the enemy ship, intercepting the missiles and cutting them out of the void. As they jumped from target to target, several of them struck the _Steadfast,_ causing the damage control officer to swear and report superficial damage to the right wing. Siloris bit back a curse himself, maintaining his commander's composure as he realized that the enemy had just bypassed the ship's kinetic barriers.

"Salarians have engaged the enemy dreadnought task force. They are losing

It took two more broadsides for the enemy cruiser's shields to drop, but the enemy ship gave almost as good as it got, with its own broadsides raking the _Steadfast_ from stem to stern, draining its shields severely but thankfully failing to break them. However, the aliens' shields ultimately broke first, and fire was immediately focused upon the vulnerable ship. In a matter of seconds, the alien cruiser was bleeding atmosphere from hundreds of wounds, but nonetheless it soldiered on, its remaining intact turrets shifting focus to a nearby frigate. The smaller ship did not stand a chance, as the first volley stripped its shields, and with its FTL drive still recharging it was unable to evade the second volley, which tore it apart.

Then, the alien cruiser was once again struck by a barrage of high speed tungsten, and this time, its admittedly sturdy construction did not hold. The black ship went up in a burst of green light, and shattered into a rapidly expanding field of fragments. Several bridge officers cheered at the sight, but the sensors officer had the opposite reaction.

"General, the relay has just lit up! Enemy forces are coming through! Hundreds of them!" The officer reported, causing the mood on the bridge to plummet. Indeed, as Siloris watched, hundreds more alien ships, ranging in size from small frigates to an immense super-dreadnought that had to be at least twice the size of the _Steadfast._ Then, even as more and more ships poured through the relay, the new arrivals turned as one, orienting their prows to face Siloris' larger force. Then, they opened fire, and Siloris' vision went black.

He felt himself get thrown to the side as a shockwave reverberated through the ship, and when he opened his eyes again, his vision did not return. Judging by the distressed cries of the bridge crew, he was not the only one to be newly blinded. He slowly struggled to his feet, feeling the floor shift beneath him as the _Steadfast_ spun out of control.

"Damage report!" He barked out, feeling his way back to his command console, dimly registering lost ship names being rattled off by the tactical VI.

"Left wing is gone, and all the antimatter fuel inside it went off! The resulting gamma ray burst has blinded damn near everyone near a window on that side of the ship. We're in a flat spin, and gunners are reporting inability to track targets." One of the officers reported. Evidently he still had his sight.

"Half the fleet is gone!" Another officer shouted.

"Can we jump out of here?" Siloris asked.

"Negative, FTL drive is still charging." The response came from somewhere to his left.

"Then send a message to command. Tell them about what happened here, and recommend dropping the charges of criminal incompetence leveled against General Arterius."

"Understood, sir!" Another officer replied from the general direction of the communications console. It wasn't the communications officer, but at least someone with working eyes was on the job.

However, halfway through the transmission, a shout that chilled him to the core rang out from the sensors officer.

"Incomi-!"

* * *

"Enemy force one is in disarray. One more volley and they're all gone." Drescher smiled as her XO gave his report.

"No sense wasting the psi-amp on them then. Order psions to shift targets to enemy force two. Remind them to keep clear of friendlies in the area." Drescher replied as another barrage of fusion lance fire slammed into the enemy force. Ship after ship went up in flames, reduced to expanding clouds of gas and debris.

"Enemy force two is attempting to disengage. Psi-amp is firing." As the report came, Drescher felt the familiar sensation of being watched. A moment later, the targeted enemy force froze in the middle of its maneuvers, drifting without guidance as human gunners lined up their next shots.

"Excellent. All ships, orient to face enemy force two. Fire at will."

"Ma'am, the light carrier task force is reporting that the enemy they have been engaging has jumped away. They're heading for the relay."

"Smart move on their part. No sense in pursuing, they'll be through the relay before we can issue the jump order." Drescher commented as her fleet opened fire on the sole remaining enemy force. The psionically affected alien crewmen probably had no idea what hit them. It took two volleys to clear the system.

"All remaining enemy ships confirmed destroyed. Search and rescue parties are ready to launch on your order, Ma'am." The XO reported once the shooting stopped.

"Excellent, have them launch at once. Humans first, then try for aliens. Intel requested prisoners as usual." Drescher ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

"Send a message to the regimental fleet as well. Tell them that the system is clear for them to move in. Contact our logistical detachment as well, I want two tugs in here as soon as possible. The _Muromets_ and _Sharon Haynes_ are in salvageable condition, so they are to be towed to Shanxi immediately. I want them back in combat condition within three months if possible."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Admiral, there is a priority message coming through on the QEC. It's from Earth." Another officer spoke up from the communications segment of the bridge.

"Patch it through." Drescher replied, and a moment later a hologram shimmered into being in front of her. She promptly saluted as High Commander Aaron Montague's visage stared back at her.

"At ease, Grand Admiral." Aaron said a moment later, and Drescher snapped to attention, hands at her sides.

"I'll cut to the chase. We have a situation that requires you to temporarily put your assault on hold." The man in charge of XCOM spoke quickly, his eyes boring into Drescher's own.

"Sir? What of Operation Sally Port?" Drescher asked.

"The situation is directly related to Operation Sally Port. We have recently had a major breakthrough in our analysis of the captured alien battleship, as we have managed to complete our translation of the alien programming language. Additionally, trained interrogation teams arrived at Shanxi two hours ago, and their interrogation of alien prisoners has yielded unusual results."

"What sort of results could justify putting an entire offensive on hold?" Drescher asked.

"The revelation that the aliens that invaded Shanxi are not affiliated with the Ethereals. Our interrogators are still piecing things together, but a preliminary report has been submitted. This report has already been forwarded to you, but to summarize, they appear to be the military arm of an interspecies federation residing almost exclusively on the mass relay network. As of this moment, we have confirmed that, in addition to this race, there are at least two others, although the alien star charts we have decrypted indicate that we only share a border with one." Aaron explained.

"I... I understand. I will hold position on the other side of the Shanxi-Theta relay until further orders are received." Drescher replied, quickly burying her shock.

"Your presence is also required for an upcoming High Command meeting, which will take place at 0700 hours Earth time, where the issue of this interspecies federation will be discussed in depth. Any questions?" Aaron finished.

"None, sir." Drescher replied. The meeting was in six hours, giving her plenty of time to read through the preliminary report. However, before she could do that, she had some orders to make. Turning to her XO, who stood faithfully by her side as always, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I want all ships notified of the change in plans. We are holding here in this system until further notice. As such, I want our repair ships to enter the system and start patching up any battle damage we may have picked up. I want everyone to be one hundred percent combat ready before we make our next move." She ordered.

"Yes ma'am." The XO saluted, a gesture that Drescher returned, before turning to relay her orders. As he did so, Drescher pulled up the preliminary report that had been sent to her. She had a meeting in six hours, and she had to be familiar with its subject, after all.

* * *

When the holding cell door was thrown open, Desolas' first thought was that his judgement had come. Criminal incompetence among the uppermost echelons of the Turian military was punishable by death, and he had been charged with it. With most of the Seventh fleet reduced to a debris field and the sheer amount of casualties sustained by the legions he had been tasked with supporting, it did not take a genius to see that the charges were going to stick.

However, it was not a guard that entered the dark, cramped room. As soon as he was able to make out the identity of the unknown individual, Desolas leaped to his feet and saluted.

"At ease, General Arterius." Primarch Sterakos said, returning the salute. Desolas obeyed, returning to attention, but his mind was racing. The Primarch had addressed him as a general, not as a prisoner.

Formalities concluded, the primarch gestured to the two guards behind him, who left the cell and took up position on either side of the entrance.

"I will be blunt with you, General. The Fifth Fleet has been wiped out to a man, and the reports of the surviving Salarians are confirming our worst nightmares. As the only general of the Turian fleet to have survived combat with these aliens, your experience is needed. Consider yourself reinstated." Sterakos spoke, his voice deep and commanding as befitting the leader of the entire Turian race.

"Thank you, your excellency." Desolas answered, lowering his head for a moment in deference.

"You are to follow me. A general meeting of representatives has been called, and your input will be critical towards deciding our next course of action in the coming war." Sterakos ordered, before he turned and stepped back out of the cell.

"I understand, your excellency." Desolas replied, following the primarch out of the cell he had spent the past few days in. The walk from the holding cell to the assembly room took nearly half an hour, and that was with the primarch's credentials allowing for quick bypassing of armed checkpoints. Finally, the two of them arrived in the general assembly room, where the rest of the attendees were waiting. Many of them were present in the flesh, although a few seats were vacant, the space in front of them occupied by shimmering holograms. Desolas recognized Councilor Barakis as one of them, his bright blue image giving him a calculating stare before returning its attention to the primarch.

As soon as the primarch entered, the room fell silent. It stayed that way as the primarch offered Desolas a seat near the main podium, before the leader of the Turian race stepped up to the podium.

"I now call to order the three hundred and fifty second meeting of the United Turian Representative Assembly. At this time, all proxy representatives are to make their presence known." At that, twelve of the assembled individuals stood up in the colonial section of the stands. These were the representatives of colonial representatives that, due to them being indisposed and their colonies lacking a quantum entanglement communicator, were unable to attend the meeting in person.

"At this time, all proxy representatives are to declare themselves and state the field they will be representing the turian people in." At that, the proxy representatives introduced themselves one by one, stating their names, the names of the officials they were representing, and in their case, the colonies they were speaking for. As they spoke, Desolas placed the colonies on the starmap he had memorized in officer training. Somewhat disturbingly, the representatives not attending were mostly from colonies near Relay 314.

Once the declarations had concluded, Sterakos spoke once more.

"All proxies have made their declarations. Are there any additional urgent declarations to be made?" When none of the assembled officials spoke up, the primarch continued.

"Very well. The issue of today's meeting is incursion by unknown aliens into Turian space via Relay 314. For the benefit of this assembly, a map of the incursion area will now be displayed." At that, the lights in the chamber darkened, while a map of the galaxy shimmered into being in the center of the room. Portions of the galaxy were colored, representing the divisions of territory between races. Finally, a single red point glimmered into being along the border of Turian space and an unexplored region. Desolas immediately recognized it as Relay 314.

"Two standard citadel hours ago, an alien fleet estimated to contain at least one thousand combat capable ships entered Turian space via Relay 314. This alien armada had already been responsible for all but destroying the Seventh Fleet, and subsequently annihilated the Fifth Fleet in under an hour. The Salarian First Fleet also participated in the engagement, although they retreated before the enemy was able to start focusing fire on their force. With me is General Desolas Arterius, who commanded the Seventh Fleet against the alien menace, and bore witness to ground combat against alien forces on one of their colony worlds." At the mention of his name, a few hushed whispers broke out. Evidently, word of his disgrace had traveled fast.

"The purpose of this meeting will thus be to determine a course of action for the Turian Hierarchy. General Arterius will now address this assembly, both to summarize his experience and to give his recommendation." Desolas suppressed his shock. He did not expect having to speak this early into the meeting, but nonetheless he was no stranger to speech.

As the primarch stepped off the podium, Desolas took his place. For a few moments, the chamber was silent as he considered his words. Finally, he opened his mouth.

"When the Seventh Fleet entered alien space on a pacification mission, it was met by a small defense force consisting of twenty ships, parked behind the relay. These twenty ships were responsible for the destruction of one third of the Seventh Fleet, including two dreadnoughts." Desolas paused, and one of the colonial representatives chose that moment to ask a simple question.

"How?"

"Yes, how was it possible for twenty alien ships to destroy hundreds of Turian warships?" Desolas recognized the second speaker as High General Disorean, commander in chief of all Turian naval forces.

"The aliens possessed weaponry capable of engaging at significantly longer ranges than our own, with incredible firepower. The _Fury of Taetrus_ was lost in a single shot from an alien cruiser, from over one and a half light seconds away. Due to our FTL drives being subject to relay interference, we were unable to close the distance through micro-FTL jumps, and thus suffered the vast majority of our casualties trying to close the distance at sublight speed. We believe that eventually the aliens ran out of ammunition, and moved in to engage us with secondary weapons. At that point, we were able to effectively bring our remaining firepower to bear and annihilate them." Desolas answered.

"This was where the planetary invasion began, correct?" General Kariten, commander in chief of the Turian army asked.

"Correct. As the legions were landing, the aliens were able to use a high altitude nuclear detonation to inflict significant casualties on the Palaven Eighth and Taetrus Third Legions. The Palaven Eighth was subsequently wiped out as it attempted to continue with its mission. Shortly afterwards, I ordered my forces to commence orbital bombardment of the alien colony and dispatched four frigates to provide close air support. All four frigates were subsequently destroyed, primarily through boarding actions." Desolas continued.

"Were you able to observe the combat on the ground? Given how General Orinia is no longer with us, and how the only survivors of the legions on Palaven are wounded, we lack a true source of information on the matter." Kariten asked.

"Unfortunately, the dust kicked up by orbital bombardment, coupled with heavy radiation presence in the atmosphere, interfered with my fleet's precision observation abilities. This was also why I was unable to provide continued orbital support for the initial attack force, for fear of friendly fire." Desolas replied.

"What about the main attack on the colony? The radiation from the nuclear detonations could not have persisted for that long." Kariten spoke again.

"I was able to both observe and provide limited orbital support to the main assault. Despite their airborne presence being all but eliminated, they were able to deny us air superiority thanks to an extremely effective laser defense network. Our VTOLs were simply unable to fly within range of this defense grid, and our fighters were limited to high-speed, low altitude passes, and even then the evasive maneuvers required limited their efficacy."

"What formed the basis of this laser defense grid?" Kariten interjected.

"From what I was able to see, it was primarily based off of their armored vehicles, which possessed significant anti-air laser weaponry in addition to their main armaments. In addition, the colony had static laser emplacements and man-portable units present in significant number. The lasers were complimented by both static and man portable SAM units. Static emplacements were prioritized for orbital bombardment and destroyed relatively quickly, but we were unable to do the same to the mobile vehicles." Desolas answered.

"I see. What of the ground combat? How did our armor fare against theirs?" Kariten asked again.

"I was unable to observe many armored engagements, although judging by the casualty reports, not very well." Desolas answered.

"That is unfortunate. What of the infantry?"

"Again, I was focusing primarily on providing orbital support when possible, so I was unable to personally observe many infantry engagements. However, judging by the casualties suffered, I doubt that they would have been able to take the colony without reinforcement." Desolas answered.

"I see. Continue." Kariten sighed, falling back into his chair.

"What of the second space battle? I understand that it was against a full enemy fleet, rather than a token garrison force." That question caused Desolas to pause. Memories of his crushing defeat rose to the surface of his mind, and for a moment, he remembered that moment on the bridge where he had lost control of himself. Several days in a holding cell had allowed him to think on the matter, and his suspicions hardened into certainty.

"General Arterius, please answer General Disorean's question." The Primarch spoke up. Desolas nodded and forced the unpleasant memory down.

"The enemies entered the system with several hundred warships in their fleet. I counted twelve warships that were clearly dreadnoughts, as well as multiple other vessels that performed in a supporting roles analogous to heavy cruisers but would have likely met Farixen displacement criteria for dreadnoughts. After entering the system, the enemy force split into two groups, the smaller of which headed for the planet while the other attacked my own fleet. This was when I ordered the transport fleet to begin evacuation procedures." Desolas explained.

"Twelve dreadnoughts?" Disorean asked.

"Yes, although seven of these dreadnought-sized ships, including the two largest among them, did not move with the rest of the fleet but rather stayed back with a small escort force and launched over two thousand small craft. These small craft were the first to hit my main fleet, while the secondary enemy task force cleared our ships from planetary orbit. Once the orbit was clear, they took up positions for orbital bombardment." Desolas replied.

"How effective were these small craft in their intended role?" Disorean asked.

"Very much so. They were able to disable the point defense systems of the _Shield of Palaven,_ in addition to destroying or damaging multiple frigates and cruisers before the enemy capital ships got in range. Once the capital ships got into range, however..." Desolas paused again.

"What happened, General?" Disorean prompted.

"There... I cannot adequately explain what occurred. Something made us all lose our minds, and it wasn't just on my ship." Desolas answered.

"Please clarify. What do you mean by 'lose your minds'?" Disorean asked.

"I mean that my ship's marine compliment suddenly opened fire on the damage control teams they were assisting. I mean that my own helmsman tried to steer my ship into a wrecked cruiser before I killed him. It wasn't just me, every ship that survived the battle reported something similar. Some claimed to hear voices in their heads, telling them to shoot crew that they had served alongside for years! Whatever this weapon is, it bypassed our kinetic barriers entirely and affected every single member of my crew in some way. It paralyzed my entire fleet, making it easy pickings for the enemy." Desolas replied. For a few moments, nobody spoke, before one of the colonial representatives exploded.

"You expect me to believe that the aliens have some sort of magical weapon capable of scrambling the minds of the most disciplined soldiers in the galaxy? You-" A raised hand cut the representative off.

"Such things are not without precedent. While the method of delivery is significantly more large scale and devastating, the PIO have encountered similar things in the past." The speaker, a short Turian wearing a simple black suit and a black visor, spoke up. Desolas quickly recognized him as Director Staris Retsurik, commander of the Primarch's Intelligence Office.

"Explain." Disorean demanded.

"The Asari have diverted extensive covert efforts into a facility located in the Nimbus cluster. While we have been unable to insert agents into said facility, we believe that it is somehow geared around weaponizing the Asari reproductive system. Two years ago, one of our operatives in the Terminus ran afoul of what we believe to be a product of this 'Ardat Yakshi' project." At that, several grainy holographic images appeared of an Asari, likely taken by a small, concealable camera.

"While the operative managed to escape with his life, he reported that he suffered a brief episode in the presence of the Asari operative where he was not in full control of his own actions. We believe that the Asari operative was attempting to recondition him through this method so that he would leak information to her. Your report, General Arterius, seems like a significantly more powerful version of this conditioning attempt." Staris finished.

"Are you suggesting, Director Resurik, that the Asari were responsible for these attacks on our borders?" Sterakos demanded.

"Not at all. If the Asari had the technology described by General Arterius, they would not bother with disguising themselves as an alien menace. They would just roll over us at once. I was merely stating that there is a possibility that this race has similar biology to the Asari, perhaps engineered into them by the Protheans." Staris replied.

"So the Protheans are involved? That could explain their significant tech advantage." Another Turian, this one dressed in a white suit with blue stripes that denoted him as Director of Research.

"I believe their involvement is a discussion best saved for another time. Right now, I believe our primary concern is the alien menace, not its ancient origins. Do we know where it will strike next?" One of the colonial representatives interjected.

"Relay 314 is linked to the Trakia and Barcia systems, and the enemy has enough ships at their disposal to assault both simultaneously." At that, two of the holographic representatives exchanged glances. One of them spoke up a moment later.

"Trakia has two domestic legions garrisoned on it at this time, along with two severely depleted legions that have seen combat against this new alien menace. However, we have the resources to raise and arm a militia numbering around two million individuals within three local days, or four standard days. Our fortifications are minimal, and our planetary defense fleet is minimal. We possess six orbital defense platforms, although their usefulness is questionable at best. I do not believe we will be able to hold off an alien invasion of this magnitude." The Trakian representative declared.

"Barcia has three domestic legions garrisoned, and can raise and arm approximately three million militia at this time. Our space defense forces are currently supplemented by the remnants of the Salarian First Fleet, although we do not know how long they will stay, or if they will attempt to defend our colony. Our orbital defense installations are two asteroid fortresses and twelve orbital defense platforms. We are unsure of our capability to repel an enemy invasion of the type described in General Arterius' report." The Barcian representative added. Desolas winced at those numbers. They would be able to give any Council race pause, but against the aliens from beyond Relay 314? He doubted they would be able to hold for long, especially without orbital support.

Evidently, he was not the only one in the room to have that realization.

"Trakia and Barcia will not be able to hold. Disorean, entrust one of your subordinates with carrying out evacuations. Children and mothers first, then elderly, then able-bodied non-combatants." Sterakos ordered, rising from his chair. Realizing he still held the podium, Desolas yielded the position to his primarch, returning to his seat.

"Yes, your excellency." General Disorean saluted. Sterakos returned the gesture, before turning to the two representatives whose worlds were about to fall. It was all too likely, Desolas realized, that those two representatives would not live to see the next meeting.

"Representatives Karandos and Narian, your colonies are doomed. You are to ensure that as many noncombatants as possible are evacuated, and that the planets are as fortified as possible. This assembly needs combat data, and we will gather it at your colonies. If conventional tactics fail, experiment, and send all data back via QEC. We need to watch your colonies fall, so that we may determine alien tactics and counter them." Sterakos ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Yes, your excellency. We will carry out our orders to the best of our ability." The two representatives replied in unison, executing two holographic salutes. Desolas heard nothing but grim acceptance in their voice. Their primarch had ordered them to die, and so they would.

"Good. I ask very much of you and those under you. Your names will be remembered as those of heroes." Sterakos answered, saluting the two of them.

"If it is asked, we will lay down our lives for the cause. Hail the hierarchy." The two representatives replied.

"Hail the hierarchy!" The assembly chorused.

Once the chamber quieted down, Sterakos continued.

"All other colonies are to begin raising and arming militia as soon as possible. I want all worlds fortified to withstand prolonged orbital bombardment as well. All shipyards and factories are to shift to total military production. I want food stockpiles to be prepared in the event of planetary sieges as well, and to that end I am reinstating wartime ration laws across the Hierarchy. As for the research and development departments, I want weapons. Until we figure out how their weapons work, it would take a miracle to develop an adequate countermeasure, so focus on boosting the firepower of our fleet. I want a preliminary report on possible methods that can be rapidly implemented into our navy on my desk in two days' time. Understood?" Sterakos finished.

"Yes, your excellency!" The chamber resounded.

"Good. This meeting is adjourned. I will be meeting with many of you individually in the coming days. You are all dismissed." As he uttered those words, the holographic representatives cut their communications channels, their shimmering figures blinking out of existence, while the representatives present in the flesh stood up in unison, before filing out of the door. Desolas did the same, only for the Primarch to stop him.

"General Arterius, you are to report to Room 309 in the Haranix building. That will be your temporary housing until your requested psychological evaluation is concluded."

"Yes, your excellency." Desolas replied. When no response came, he turned and left the assembly room.

* * *

Ten minutes before the appointed time, Drescher stepped into the _Hamburg_ 's quantum communications room. Capable of instantaneously transmitting data across the galaxy, quantum entanglement communicators would have easily rendered hyperwave communications obsolete, were it not for the fact that they could only transmit messages between two locations. An admiral would thus have to have a separate communications unit for every single ship serving under him, which was simply not cost effective.

However, quantum entanglement communicators nonetheless allowed for high ranking officers and colonial officials to keep in close contact with the XCOM government on Earth. One such communicator had been installed on the _Hamburg_ when Drescher had designated it as her flagship nearly three years ago. She walked into the center of the room and sat down in the single chair present there. Pushing the activation button on the left armrest, she quickly entered her authorization code and the room went black. A moment later, the display screens that made up the room's walls lit up, displaying a full live feed of a familiar darkened meeting room.

"Good evening, Admiral Drescher. I take it these new aliens have not given you any trouble?" Drescher looked right to see General Williams, whose own hologram sat two seats away from her.

"I wouldn't be much of an admiral if they did." Drescher replied, nodding to the general.

"I've been receiving constant reports from our intelligence teams. That alien battleship you captured has proven to be a gold mine of intelligence data. Half an hour ago they reported accessing some sort of alien database. Now that we've cracked the aliens' computer code, it will only be a matter of time before we can get a working translation of their language going. It doesn't hurt that we've captured hundreds of translator devices." Williams commented.

"Intel definitely works fast, I see."

The two of them continued to talk as other holograms shimmered into being around the room. Some Drescher recognized as the regimental commanders that were accompanying her force. Other regimental commanders were also present, although for what reason Drescher did not know. Finally, the door slid open, and several men in black suits entered the meeting room. Six were Ordermen, four of which pulled chairs out for their assigned administrators, while the last two came to stand behind the High Commander's podium. High Commander Aaron Montague entered last, flanked by two more Ordermen. Everyone, holographic or not, stood and saluted as the most powerful man in XCOM walked over to his podium and returned the gesture.

"At ease. As many of you already know, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss the changes that must be made to Operation Sally Port in light of the recent revelation of a separate alien federation residing on the relay network. Grand Admiral Drescher will now explain the original plan for the benefit of all in attendance." Aaron spoke quickly, before gesturing towards Drescher's hologram.

"Operation Sally Port is the current plan to alleviate pressure on the Perseus Front. It entails a significant expansion along the mass relay network, using the relays to bypass Ethereal defensive lines. Then, once a certain amount of relay systems have been taken, a large-scale offensive into Ethereal space will take place, using the relay systems as staging points. This would serve to divide Ethereal territory, making it much easier to destroy all Ethereal naval forces encountered. We do not expect to be able to hold on to the vast majority of this newly acquired territory, however, and indeed that is not the purpose of this operation. Instead, this operation entails complete annihilation of all Ethereal holdings in the affected area before retreating into more easily held space, thus reducing enemy production capabilities and making future military action easier." Drescher explained.

"Unfortunately, the presence of a federation of unaffiliated alien races on the relay network complicates matters. In order for Operation Sally Port to work, we would have to completely occupy the territory of one of the three major federation races on the relay network, as well as take significant chunks of other races' territories. I am now projecting data from a captured federation starmap. The areas highlighted in blue represent federation territory that must be taken." A man in the dark grey uniform of XCOM Intelligence promptly spoke up, continuing for her.

"It is not a question of whether or not we can beat this federation, as we have already proven to be the superior military power. However, our policy towards them has yet to be decided. As far as we know, they have not collaborated with the Ethereals in any way, shape or form, and their only crime against us is living on the wrong worlds at the wrong time. However, we need those worlds, and a diplomatic solution is off the table." The intelligence officer finished.

"Why would a diplomatic solution be impossible? If we can avoid unnecessary conflict with this alien federation, we not only save our strength for the real enemy, but we may potentially gain allies in the long term." One of the regimental commanders, her uniform identifying her as the leader of the 928th Solar, spoke up.

"We made a favorable diplomatic solution impossible when Rear Admiral Jacob Cohn fired on a federation patrol. We smashed any hope of a good peace into the ground along with two enemy fleets shortly afterwards. The only way we could possibly have peace at this juncture is to offer significant technological and material concessions, string Drescher and Williams up for war crimes, and debase ourselves before a hostile alien parliament. Even then, that would not get us the worlds we need, only a tentative guarantee that we might keep the territory we already have. I am sure all of you here realize that this would be unacceptable." Simon Hutch, the XCOM propaganda head, replied. The rest of the room, Drescher included, nodded.

"The simplest solution would, naturally, be extermination. Sweep their pitiful fleets aside and turn their planets into radioactive rocks from orbit. It is certainly the fastest option I can think of." One of the regimental commanders proposed.

"I find that option to be exceedingly wasteful. These aliens possess infrastructure, population and resources that we can, with some effort, turn to our own use." The 928th Solar's general replied.

"How could we possibly benefit from taking and holding outdated infrastructure and hostile populations?" General Williams asked.

"Outdated infrastructure is still infrastructure. A shipyard is a shipyard, and with some modifications they can be brought up to our standards. As for the populations, it is fully possible to conquer a race and have them happily living under your thumb twenty years later. It was, after all, done to us." Drescher raised an eyebrow at that. The 928th's leader was on thin ice, mentioning the ADVENT administration like that, but her words had piqued Drescher's interest. One quick identity check later, and she knew the woman's name: Eleanor Vasquez.

"The ADVENT administration and their Ethereal overlords were exceedingly effective occupiers. They used the perfect balance of carrot and stick to keep the majority of Earth's population in line, and if they weren't secretly melting people down on the side, it is very likely that our resistance movement would have failed. Half the reason we were able to force them off the planet was because of our propaganda being the complete and uncut truth. We did not have to fabricate anything, the footage of ADVENT's black sites hurt the Ethereals more than any lie ever could. However, if we were to occupy the alien worlds as liberators, we may very well do what the Ethereals could not do with us." Vasquez continued.

"That might be possible, but the occupation efforts would still require large amounts of resources, not to mention that they would tie up immense amounts of manpower. I, for one, am not willing to divert thousands of my troops to garrison duty, not when every one of them is needed at the front." General Nagisa of the 1st Formalhaut regiment commented.

"Nor will you have to. I have just the soldiers for the job." Simon Hutch answered.

"The ASP? Are they up to the task?" Vasquez asked.

"My ASP forces are equipped with a combination of nonlethal and lethal gear intended for use against seditious elements in our society. They are trained for everything, ranging from riot suppression and crowd control to low-level urban and wilderness counter-insurgency. Their officers have been educated extensively in counter-propaganda and media warfare, and are more than up to the challenge of suppressing and assimilating an alien race into our own society. However, there have been no large-scale anti-government movements in nearly a century, and what small-scale activity exists now falls firmly under the jurisdiction of the ExAlt hunters. The ASP are, at the moment, completely redundant and are a waste of resources. However, with this new development, they may yet have a role to play in the XCOM war machine." Hutch replied.

"I see. That makes things easier." Vasquez mused.

"We have not yet decided if we are even going to let the aliens live, Vasquez. Don't get too ahead of yourself." Williams commented.

"Whether we take them over or bomb them from orbit is ultimately dependent on what they have to offer us. By killing them off, our campaign can proceed significantly faster, and with significantly fewer casualties on the ground. What does the occupation plan have to offer that outweighs this very large benefit?" General Dubaku, of the 53rd Arcturus asked.

"I can see several. First and foremost, we get a ready force of labor to extract the resources present on the alien worlds, not to mention the infrastructure present on and around them. Once we can normalize our occupation in the minds of the alien inhabitants, we may even be able to start drafting them into our military to supplement Human soldiers." Vasquez answered.

"We may even be able to skip the normalization process entirely by raising the aliens from birth. If we can prevent the passing of undesirable ideas from one generation to the next, we will speed up their integration significantly." Hutch commented.

"Enough. Both proposals have merit, but I do not believe immediate extermination is an optimal solution. At the very least, we must attempt to make use of the alien races we will soon be dealing with. If they prove unruly and are not worth the resources placed into them, we will cut our losses and exterminate them. However, I would prefer that we at least attempted to harness the full benefits of conquest before resorting to such measures." The High Commander's voice cut into the discussion, halting it in its tracks.

"Simon, you have volunteered the ASP for the purpose of occupation duties. As such, I am authorizing the creation of the First Pacification Regiment, which is to be composed exclusively of ASP personnel. As the head of the ASP, you are charged with filling the new regiment's ranks. You may draw ASP personnel from any planet as you see fit."

"Yes sir." Simon replied.

"Drescher, due to the unexpected presence of alien forces along the Sally Port route, several additional regiments have been re-tasked to join up with your fleet. You are to continue your offensive into alien space immediately, operating under restricted rules of engagement. No mass destruction of civilian areas unless resistance is too great to efficiently overcome. No restrictions on plasma bombardment."

"Yes sir." Drescher replied.

"As for the infantry involved in Operation Sally Port, you generals are to make it clear to your men that this is an occupation attempt, not an extermination campaign. These aliens are to be classed as Recoverable until a more suitable designation can be determined, and our soldiers' rules of engagement are to be altered accordingly." The High Commander continued, his words causing a few generals to grumble, but all of them acknowledged the order.

"You will be provided as up-to-date intelligence on the alien federation as possible, and once we have managed to translate their languages, translation software will be sent to your helmets for ease of communication. For obvious reasons, we lack a trained diplomatic corps, so I am entrusting you, Drescher, to represent our people in such scenarios where possible."

"Understood, sir. I will not disappoint." Drescher replied, saluting.

"Very well then. You are dismissed, Grand Admiral. Continue the offensive immediately." The High Commander ordered, returning the gesture.

"Yes sir." Drescher replied, before cutting communications. As the room returned to its normal lighting, she stood and walked out of the room. Her XO was waiting dutifully on the other side of the door.

"Kurt, I want two of our scout flotillas to map out this system's outbound relay. Once we know where that relay leads, we can plan our next move. The offensive continues on schedule." She ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" Her XO saluted, and ran off to relay her orders to the people who would carry them out.

* * *

"Attention all passengers, we are about to exit FTL. Repeat, we are about to exit FTL. All cadets bound for Luna, start preparing to disembark. Cargo drones have been dispatched to retrieve your belongings from the cargo holds. Bear in mind that this is your last chance to get rid of any contraband items that would get you in trouble on Luna. Repeat, get rid of any contraband now. The lists of contraband items were provided to you upon embarkation." The PA shook Zaeed out of his dozing. All around him, cadets were in the process of waking up from their naps, slowly clambering to their feet in the cramped quarters of the transport ship. He followed their example, pausing to quickly shake Vido awake.

"Wuh- Are we there yet?" The other boy asked, still groggy.

"Almost. We're supposed to prepare to disembark." Zaeed replied, looking around to see if any of the other Shanxi recruits were still sleeping. Across from him, Maria and Victor were doing the same, and they quickly nodded to him. Once he was satisfied that all his fellow Shanxi colonials were up, he headed for one of the passenger room exits, where a bright red sign helpfully indicated the cargo hold. Slowly, he waded forward through the crush of cadets from other colonies, some of whom had been on the ship for several weeks and were among the first to rush for the exit.

As he reached the exit himself, he felt the ship shudder slightly as it exited FTL, the sensation causing him to redouble his efforts to reach the lower deck, where the portholes were located, so that he could get his first glimpse of Earth. Finally, he made it, and stood on tip-toe to peer over the heads of his fellow cadets, all of whom were jockeying for position near the cargo bots.

Earth was little more than a small blue circle from where he stood, and he could barely make out the shapes of clouds and continents. At that distance, the Ring of Steel was little more than a halo of small specks, glimmering like diamond dust, but Zaeed knew that those stations could easily hit targets in lunar orbit, and ensured that the birthplace of humanity remained an impregnable fortress.

Looking the other way, Zaeed saw a portion of the moon, which, at this distance, dwarfed its larger parent planet.

"Over here!" Zaeed's view was disrupted as a hand grabbed him and pulled him through the crowd, barely giving him enough time to grab on to Vido. The hand's owner was revealed to be Maria, who had managed to get the attention of a cargo bot.

"Present ID." The robot ordered, and Zaeed complied, pulling his ID card out of one of his pockets and handing it to the automaton. A quick scan later, and the card was returned.

"ID Confirmed. Your belongings will be retrieved shortly, Mr. Massani." The robot said, before taking Vido's card. Once it had scanned that, it lurched away, heading to the cargo hold. It returned a few minutes later, a pile of bags in its hands. Zaeed recognized one as his, and quickly grabbed it before the machine moved on.

As the process of cargo distribution continued, Luna was steadily growing closer, and Zaeed could now see the forms of buildings on the moon's surface. Hundreds of fusion lance emplacements tracked the transport's descent as it proceeded to a large hangar, the atmospheric containment field glowing a bright white.

"Attention all passengers, we will be landing in ten minutes. Repeat, landing will commence in ten minutes." As that message went out, the crowd began to shift, moving towards the immense exit ramp. A few cadets stayed behind, still waiting for their belongings.

"Attention all passengers, landing will commence in five minutes." As that announcement echoed through the crowded deck, the portholes flashed white. The transport had passed through the atmospheric containment field, and was now descending into an immense shaft dug into the lunar bedrock. A minute later, they had passed the retracted bombardment shield, and entered a cavernous hangar, where hundreds of immense transport ships sat on platforms, unloading their cargo of troops and materiel. One such pad extended from the wall, a blast door sliding open at one end, leading into Luna Academy proper. Slowly, the transport swung around, until the platform was out of sight.

The landing itself was rather gentle, the platform bearing the weight of the gigantic transport comfortably.

"Attention all cadets, you are to form up by colony. Thank you for flying Air XCOM, and have a nice day. " The PA transmitted the pilot's words to the assembled cadets as the exit ramp began to slide open. Nobody moved, even after the ramp had completely dropped.

"DISEMBARK!" The shouted order came from outside, and the cadets began to march, quickly matching their steps with those of their neighbors as they had been trained to. The thunder of their footsteps was lost among the roar of starships, which echoed through the cold air of Luna Academy.

"Shanxi! Shanxi over here! All Shanxi cadets, form a line here!" The enhanced voice drew Zaeed's attention, and he quickly began to head towards it. Slowly, the marching crowd came apart, its members splitting up according to their colony. The Shanxi cadets quickly formed a line in front of a short, black man, who glowered at them from behind a megaphone. One the cadets had all assembled, the man slowly began to pace in front of their line.

"I was told that I would be getting veterans this time around..." The man began, his voice soft but somehow managing to carry all the way down the line.

"... But all I see here are a bunch of writhing maggots that barely qualify as human! What have they been teaching you backwater hicks? Do none of you know what parade rest is?" The man shouted, and Zaeed instantly straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. The rest of the Shanxi cadets did the same.

"Good, it seems that not all hope is lost for you maggots yet. Now drop for fifty!" The man shouted, and the Shanxi cadets obliged, falling to the ground in unison and starting their assigned push-ups. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Zaeed saw that the cadets from the other colonies were in similar situations.

"Now that I know you all are listening, allow me to introduce myself! I am Sergeant Julius Hardy, and I will be your worst nightmare at this fine institution! You will refer to me as Sarge, or as Sergeant Hardy if the higher ups are present! Some of you will only have me for a week before you are shuffled over to the naval academy. You will think yourselves lucky, until they start gassing you in your sleep! Now aren't the rest of you lucky that I won't be doing that to you?" Sergeant Hardy paused in his pacing when no reply came.

"Well? Aren't you all lucky to have me?" He demanded.

"Sir yes sir!" The Shanxi Cadets chorused.

"Now, your first week here will be composed of medical checks, physical assessments, and measurements! We will have you fitted for armor, assign you uniforms, and ensure that none of you have brought any disgusting colonial viruses with you! We will make sure that you are in peak physical condition, and if you are not then it will be my personal duty to fix you! Do you want to find out what that entails?" Hardy demanded.

"Sir no sir!"

"Good! Just ace those physicals and you will have nothing to worry about! Now, once your first week is over, the navy boys here will be picked up, and the rest of you maggots will be left with me! From that point on, it will be my job to turn you from little boys and girls into fighting men and women! That means you will be following all my orders to the letter! Now jump!" At that, the line of Shanxi cadets stood and leaped into the air, before coming back down into a push-up position.

"Good, good! You're getting it! Now, I will have you for two months here, then the regiments will get their claws into you! I will forge you into tools of war for them, and they will hone you to a razor edge! By the time you go into combat, you will be ten times better than anything the Ethereals can throw at us! Now get up!" At that shouted order, Zaeed jumped to his feet, his action mirrored by those around him.

"Remember, every drop of sweat spilled in this academy is a drop of blood saved on the battlefield, and your body has more than a gallon of the stuff for me to compensate for! Your schedules will be handed out to you later today! I expect you all to be acclimatized to the base's day-night cycle by the end of the week! Now, you are all to report to floor 221 for medical check ups! DISMISSED!"

With that, Zaeed turned and followed the rest of the Shanxi cadets off the platform, unconsciously matching steps with the boy in front of him until they stopped inside the giant elevator. An entire transport could have been parked comfortably inside it, save for the fact that it was filled to the brim with cadets. Once the last groups filtered in from the platform, an alarm rang out, moments before the door started to slowly slide shut, bathing the elevator in darkness. Then, dim red lights illuminated the space, and the elevator began to move, shifting horizontally first to get clear of the hangar shaft, then proceeding down into the depths of Luna, where Zaeed's future lay.

* * *

 **A/N: It's finally done! As I said in the initial author's note, Long War 2 was in part responsible for the delay, with more mundane life-related things being to blame for the rest.**

 **Now, before I continue, I would like to state my thoughts on the Turian government. Some of you are undoubtedly wondering why I have the Turians refer to the Primarch as 'Your Excellency', when the post is clearly not royalty. The reason I chose that title is to give the position a bit of history, as its evidence shows that the position once was more akin to royalty, long before the modern Turian Hierarchy came into being, and the title simply stuck. Now, of course, the Primarch still has absolute power, but the position is now the top of a meritocratic dictatorship, rather than a monarchy.**

 **Next, I would like to congratulate Timedraven117 for being the first contributor to have his OC regiment mentioned by name in this fic. The 928th Solar, or more specifically, their commander, General Eleanor Vasquez, was introduced ahead of schedule, as she allowed me to show that not all of Humanity is simply about LOLEXTERMINATUS-ing the aliens. In addition to portraying a different side of humanity in this fic, it also allows me to show how much the society in this fic has changed, as even people with somewhat softer deviant philosophies like Eleanor are still harsh and horrifically pragmatic by today's standards. Once again, congratulations to Timedraven117.**

 **Finally, I would like your opinion on the Luna Academy introduction. I wanted to try to create a similar feeling as with the Cadets' March in the prologue, showing just how much of a military juggernaut Humanity is at this point. I also have no personal experience with military training procedure, so any feedback on how to improve future training scenes would be appreciated. However, this is not an anime, and as such I have no intention of having the story stall out in military academy as Zaeed falls into a love quadrangle. There will be training and academy scenes interspersed with the initial stages of the Turian campaign, but ultimately I know that both you and I want Zaeed out and in combat as soon as possible. However, until then, I will have to fill in the combat scenes with disposable OCs, since Saren and Tarkus are currently out of action and Zaeed is in training. Your thoughts on this will be appreciated as well.**

 **Now, I hope you all enjoyed the story so far. As usual, I hope you are all looking forward to the next update.**


	8. Chapter 6: Invasion

**A/N: Apologies for the delay. Real life has been rather hectic, although that seems to be the new normal as of late.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Invasion**

" _ALERT: EMERGENCY EVACUATION IN PROGRESS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ALL NONCOMBATANTS ARE TO REPORT TO NEAREST OPEN AREA MARKED BY COLORED SMOKE. BRING IDENTIFICATION AND NO MORE THAN ONE PERSONAL BAGGAGE ITEM. LOCAL CADETS WILL PROVIDE EVACUATION ASSISTANCE. SHUTTLE PICKUPS FROM DESIGNATED AREAS ARE HOURLY. ALL COMBAT CAPABLE RESIDENTS ARE TO IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO NEAREST PUBLIC BUILDING OPERATED BY MILITIA PERSONNEL TO RECEIVE ARMAMENT AND EQUIPMENT."_ \- Text of Emergency Broadcast on the Turian colony of Trakia prior to Human invasion.

Sicron Palleias stood in line, trying his best to ignore the sound of emergency alarms blaring throughout the Trakian capital city of Mareonia. Ahead of him, the line slowly shuffled forward as the soldiers at the head of it handed out rapidly fabricated rifles. Three fabricators sat several feet away, surrounded by the hulks of scrapped skycars that had been cannibalized for their element zero. Each car could provide enough to arm around twenty militia, along with raw material of a good enough quality to ensure that the flash-fabricated guns were not going to burn up as soon as they were fired. A large heap of clothing lay beside one of the fabricators as well, acting as a source of fabric.

With a loud hum, an evacuation shuttle flew low overhead, its doors already opening as it prepared to land in a nearby plaza. Sicron wondered if his wife had already managed to get onboard, as her pregnancy had exempted her from being pressed into the militia. She would instead have the unenviable job of helping to supervise the hundreds of children too young to fight that were the main focus of the evacuation.

He heard a sneeze behind him as the line shuffled forward.

"Rather cold, isn't it?" A slightly accented voice spoke up a moment later. The speaker stood out as the only Asari in the line. He knew her, of course. Alava T'lassi had helped raise him, much like she had for his father and grandfather, who in turn was her old bondmate's brother. Her presence in the family tree had meant that his entire family had been granted passage visas into Asari space, an offer that had ensured that his wife would find a home far from the front.

"That it is. I hated winter training back in boot camp." Sicron replied.

"Well, you're gonna have to get used to it. There's not enough material to give everyone heated armor. All we militiamen are getting are a few trauma plates to wear under our coats." A militiaman that had already received his equipment added as he walked past, doubtlessly heading off to the local orbital bombardment shelter.

Soon, it was Sicron's turn to receive his gear, and he waited patiently as the engineers tore into a rather expensive looking skycar to refill one of the fabricators. His rifle was ready a minute later, along with four others. Its stock and foregrip had evidently been part of the car's dashboard before being molded into their current form, while its body bore faint red streaks of whatever anti-rust material the car's manufacturer had covered it with. His armor plates came out with a similar red-streaked look, and he quickly put them on over his clothes, securing them into place with straps that had once been seatbelts.

"Damn, this thing is tight." Alava complained as she strapped her own chestplate into place.

"It was made for a Turian. Not enough Asari out here to warrant allowances for their physiology." One of the engineers replied.

"Shame about that." Alava remarked, although Sicron could tell that she wasn't just referring to an awkward piece of armor. Very few Asari were left on the planet after the matriarchs on the Asari homeworld had issued passage visas for them and their families.

"At least you're here." Sicron replied as he stepped into his new boots, thanking the engineers for lining their interior with seat padding as he did so. That made the awkward fit a bit more bearable, and gave him some protection from the cold.

The next item he received was a thick trench coat from the second fabricator, large enough to cover his entire body. It was colored in a dark grey camouflage pattern, intended to give him some measure of stealth in an urban environment. He donned it once his armor was in place, buttoning it closed while he waited for his helmet. It, along with his combat knife, came out of the third fabricator. The knife's sheath was clipped around his coat's belt, while the helmet was tucked under his arm. No sense wearing it now, after all. He took his rifle with his free hand and stepped off to the side, allowing the next person in line to step up and receive their gear. Alava joined him a moment later.

An officer waved them over before either of them could speak.

"You all are to report to the bunker near the intersection of Twenty-Second Street and Piral Avenue. Once there, you will be placed under the command of the local officer. Dismissed!" The officer explained quickly, before returning his attention to the datapad in his hands.

"Yes sir!" The two of them saluted, before heading off.

"It still doesn't seem real to me." Alava commented as they walked along the street.

"What do you mean?" Sicron asked.

"I don't know... It's like this is all a nightmare, and I keep expecting to wake up in my bed to another peaceful morning." She replied.

Sicron tried to think of a response to this, but couldn't. A glance over at his great-aunt revealed the uncertain look on her face, an expression that he had never seen before.

"Oh well. I've seen action before. You know, I worked as a marine on a Terminus convoy back in my maiden days. Back then, it felt like every week there would be a pirate raid that I'd have to help fight off. This shouldn't be any different, it's just on a larger scale. Means more targets..." Alava continued, her voice more desperate than confident. Sicron kept quiet as she continued to speak, her voice growing quieter as she did so. He reminded himself that fear was contagious, and that he could not allow himself to feel the same, but the cold pit formed in his stomach nonetheless. Almost unconsciously, he grabbed Alava's hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

Then, just as they turned the corner on to twenty-second street, a cacophony of sound began to echo through the city as what seemed like every single alarm system began to blare at the same time.

"Shit! We have to get to the bunker, now! Hurry!" Sicron exclaimed, realizing that such an alarm could only mean one thing.

"They're here? Already?" Alava exclaimed, breaking into a sprint beside him.

"Evidently, and if we don't get to the bunker now we'll be left outside!" Sicron shouted as he continued to run, spotting the office building that masked the bunker's entrance some distance away.

Fortunately, the bunker was still open as they sprinted through its entrance, leaping down into a slowly descending cargo lift, their falls broken by the mass of militia already inside it. As he struggled to his feet and caught his breath, Sicron breathed a sigh of relief.

Turian generals had learned early on during the Unification Wars that leaving troops out in the open when an enemy had ships in orbit was equivalent to leaving them for dead. By the time the Krogan Rebellions had came around, Turian cities were being built with extensive bunker networks beneath them designed to shelter their defenders from orbital bombardment.

As the lift continued to descend, several blast doors closed above it, ensuring that the lift shaft would not be a weak point in the bunker's design. Soon it reached the bottom, and Sicron exited into a crowded garage, where several tanks were being tended to by their crew. Thick metal pillars provided support for the low concrete ceiling, and the entire complex was lit by dim red light.

"Attention all Turian military personnel. Today, at approximately seven hours local time, hostile alien forces entered the Trakia system, continuing their unprovoked and undeclared war against the Turian people. We do not know their numbers, capabilities, or motivations, but this will mark the first day that they have attempted to invade a Turian world. Together, we will show them just how foolish they were to do so! Victory will be ours!" The planetary governor's speech echoed through the dark complex as Sicron made his way deeper inside.

As he walked, he noticed a knot of legionaries near one of the tanks, their pauldrons emblazoned with the insignia of a legion foreign to Trakia. A closer look at the markings told him that they were from Taetrus. He hesitated at that. The only soldiers from Taetrus on the planet had been from the Taetrus Third Legion, a battered unit that had limped to Trakia shortly before the state of emergency had been declared. Supposedly they had fought the aliens on one of their worlds.

He lingered where he stood for a moment, before gathering up the courage to walk up to them. One of the soldiers noticed him and cocked her head.

"I take it you've got questions as well? My advice to you would be to make peace with any spirits you may have angered and die well." The soldier preempted him, her words stopping him in his tracks.

"Is it going to be that bad?" He asked.

"Whatever you're thinking of, it's going to be worse." The response came from another Tatetrus legionnaire.

"Dear Goddess, what happened over there?" Alava exclaimed, having stayed quiet until then.

"I'll tell you what happened! Three whole legions went up against a tiny alien colony and were massacred! Then, just as we thought we might be gaining the upper hand, the real alien troops showed up and tore us to pieces! Our best hope right now is that the aliens nuke the planet from orbit and decide the resulting radioactive wasteland isn't worth occupying! Our shelters will probably survive that way, at least..." Another soldier said, trailing off as he finished.

"Knock it off. I won't tolerate any defeatism in this unit." An officer interjected before he could continue.

"Just stating the facts, sir. Barring a miracle, we don't stand a chance." The soldier replied.

By then, Sicron was already walking away, trying unsuccessfully to banish his fear. It was easier when he had a task to focus on, like getting to the bunker or acquiring his equipment, but now there was nothing to do but wait for the battle to begin.

* * *

"System is clear of hostile contacts. No casualties." The report came in moments after the last enemy defense platform went up in flames.

"Good. Signal the transport fleet and tell them that they are clear to enter the system. As they do that, I want Admiral Wayan to take the 62nd Battle Fleet into guard position behind the relay. Anything not broadcasting a Human IFF is to be immediately destroyed. Meanwhile, I will accompany the 61st Battle Fleet into planetary orbit. Cruiser squadrons one through three are to form a bombardment group and orient for orbital bombardment, but hold fire until the transports arrive unless fired upon by surface installations. Judging by the size of the defense fleet, we shouldn't need more than five days of sustained bombardment." Drescher ordered.

Her orders went out, and the ships under her command began to move. As they closed, their sensors began to pick up surface launches, the alien craft heading to the opposite side of the planet. Then, they began to disappear. A moment later, the 62nd battle fleet reported ships exiting FTL near the relay and attempting to jump out. The alien captains had likely pre-prepared the relay transit codes, because in the time it take for the computerized targeting systems of Wayan's fleet to pick them up, they had already transitioned through the mass relay. A few, however, whether through bad luck or poor skill on the part of their captains, exited FTL outside of the relay's entry zone. These were destroyed within seconds.

Then, Human transports began to enter the system, their FTL drives already warmed up. One micro-jump later and they had caught up with Drescher's fleet, clamping shut the lilium cage over the alien world.

With her ships in position, Drescher ordered a channel to be opened to General Dufresne, her army counterpart and the overall commander of the upcoming ground invasion.

"All ships are in position, General, and we are ready to commence orbital bombardment. Have you had a chance to determine any priority targets?" She asked.

"There appear to be twenty four large urban centers on the planet's surface, and preliminary scans show large concentrations of possible hostiles entrenched in minimal cover within them. However, our orders are to leave such infrastructure centers relatively intact, so I am unfortunately not authorized to simply request fusion lance strikes on these zones. Multiple smaller military bases have been identified as well, and have been transmitted to you now. I am requesting that any such base outside of a major urban center be subjected to a fusion lance strike. Finally, I am requesting a sounding barrage in order to locate any possible subsurface installations." Dufresne explained.

"Request granted. Kurt, relay orders to the bombardment group to prepare for a sounding barrage." Drescher ordered her XO.

"Yes ma'am." The man obeyed, shouting her orders to the communications officers.

"Thank you, Grand Admiral. I will keep you updated once the sounding barrage is completed." Dufresne replied, before stepping out of the hologram field, shouting something at one of the sensor officers aboard his command transport.

Fifteen minutes later, the calculations were complete and the sounding barrage began. Turrets swiveled and the guns within shifted to the required elevation, targeting specific points determined by the geography of the planet below. As they did so, specialized sensors locked onto the area surrounding the impact points, ready to track the vibrations produced by the plasma bolts slamming into the ground. A hollow bunker reinforced against orbital bombardment would produce unique patterns in the vibrations, allowing for its detection.

Finally, the cannons fired, sending blue-green bolts into the wilderness of the planet below. A minute passed before the cannons fired again, this time at different targets. The process continued for nearly an hour before the last gun fell silent.

"Sounding barrage complete, and the general has just sent us his sensor readings." The XO reported, and Drescher pulled them up just as Dufresne stepped back into the holo-field.

"They've got bunkers all right. Every major urban center has multiple large-scale deep shelters within it. Our plasma guns won't do a thing against them. We could break them with sustained fusion lance strikes, but that would wreck the cities we are trying to capture." The general reported.

"I see." Drescher frowned at that. Every bunker left intact would likely mean thousands more aliens for the ground troops to fight in unfamiliar urban territory.

"There are multiple similar facilities present beneath outlying military bases as well. These, fortunately for us, are acceptable targets. Bombardment of these may begin immediately, along with that of smaller urban centers. However, I will request that you hold off on the bombardment of major urban centers until we gain more in-depth scans and ascertain acceptable targets within them." Dufresne continued.

"That is acceptable." Drescher nodded.

"Very well. I will likely have the details for urban bombardment down within a solar day. Until then, please take out as many priority targets as possible." Dufresne replied.

"I will do so. Kurt, relay targeting information to the bombardment group. Time to take this planet." Drescher ordered in response.

Five minutes later, the fleet's guns opened fire.

* * *

"What do you mean, comms are down with Kalashi base?" Sicron asked. The militiaman he was speaking to was fairly young, barely old enough to qualify for the draft. He also claimed to have a brother in the upper echelons of the bunker's staff.

"I mean exactly that. My brother told me he overheard a conversation where the comms staff weren't able to raise them. We know from the surface reports that the aliens have been pounding everything outside of the city all day, and wireless communications are jammed so we have to use land-lines. Maybe a lucky strike cut one of them." The militiaman replied.

"This is some unification wars-era shit we're in. Since the enemy isn't invading yet, it means they think they have plenty of time to work with. We could be stuck down here for weeks." Another soldier muttered.

"At least they're not dropping nukes on the city. I heard these bunkers can withstand anything short of a WMD going off right on top of it, and even then it would have to be a pretty powerful one." The young militiaman replied.

"You haven't studied much history, have you? The Citadel Conventions has a special category reserved for weapons designed for wiping out bunkers like this. One replicator bomb and this entire structure will collapse inward within a day." Alava chipped in. As if echoing her words, a faint but audible rumble echoed through the bunker, bringing all conversation to a halt.

"That was right on top of us..." Sicron murmured as more rumbles followed the first.

"Spirits..." That word was muttered by more than a few of the bunker's residents. A moment later, the older soldier's omni-tool pulsed. He cursed as he saw the message.

"Damn, looks like an alien cannon took out the base of the building above us. The whole damn structure just collapsed on top of us, and I'm on cleanup duty." Sicron's heart froze at that, thoughts of slowly starving inside a sealed bunker making their way into his head.

"Relax, the designers anticipated this. We'll be able to dig our way out in about half an hour, so long as the lightener still works." The soldier finished, before hurrying away.

"Don't worry, the people who designed this bunker learned from the Unification Wars and Krogan Rebellions. They wouldn't design a bunker that was so easily blocked." Alava added, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Its presence did little to stop the growing dread from rising within him as more and more alien fire came down from the sky.

"A lot of us didn't make it inside. If this is half as intense as it sounds, they're already dead." The young militiaman murmured. Judging by his expression, he knew someone who didn't make it.

Minutes slowly stretched into hours as the bombardment continued. These hours in turn became days, composed equally of fear and boredom. In a bunker that somewhat over-capacity there was precious little to do but wait and listen and talk.

Once, the silence was broken by a siren and, not knowing what to do, Sicron could only wait. It wasn't until the next day that word filtered down from high above, telling him that one of the bunkers inside the city had collapsed under sustained bombardment.

It was in the middle of the fifth day that the rumbles ceased. The silence was almost as loud as the bombardment had been, and the stale air within the shelter had taken on an edge. Quickly finishing his ration bar, Sicron checked his weapons and strapped his armor into place. As he was finishing with his chestplate, the sirens he was anticipating began to ring.

"Ground invasion imminent. Combat engineering teams are to report to the elevator immediately. Clearance equipment is being moved into position. All personnel are to prepare for combat. I say again, all combat personnel are to prepare for combat. Good luck, and may the spirits watch over us. Once again, a ground invasion is imminent. Combat engineering teams are..." The announcement repeated as Sicron tightened his armor, before donning his coat over it. The bunker was buzzing with activity, as armored bulldozers and their operators moved into position within the elevator. Along with them was a mass effect lightener, designed to reduce the mass of the debris so that they could be removed more easily.

Behind them, making up the second group to go up the elevator, were a set of anti-air tanks. Each one carried a rack of SAMs and a powerful railgun, capable of striking down targets in the high atmosphere with ease. As a militiaman, Sicron would be nowhere near the front of the que, but being the last to exit could very well be a death sentence given how much time the enemy would have to zero in their orbital artillery on the bunker's exit. As such, he formed up with several other militiamen near the middle of the line just as the elevator began to move, carrying its vital cargo to the surface. The wait was over.

* * *

Nearly ten thousand kilometers above Mareonia a different siren was blaring, although its purpose was the same. Inside the many Human drop transports, the vanguard of the 412th Solar Regiment prepared for their drop into combat. Julia Mendoza was but one of the many drop troops inside the transport _ODT-4207,_ whose job it was to assault the largest urban center on the planet and secure a landing zone. Once the zone was established the rest of her own regiment, along with the more specialized 23rd Titan, would be able to bring in their heavy hitters.

"Excited for our first real drop?" One of her squadmates, a tall man named Auguste Fremont, asked.

"Hell no! I'd be much more excited to stay up here while the fleet glasses this damn rock." Julia replied as she removed her uniform, stripping down to the skin-tight body glove she wore underneath. Loose clothing would only get in the way of the armor, and the last thing anyone wanted was to be stuck inside their suit thanks to a piece of fabric in one of its many joints.

Once that was over with, she stepped into her first piece of armor and bent down to press the activation switch. A moment later she straightened up, standing still as the armor snapped itself into place around her lower body. Next came the upper body section, which she slid on over her head. Once the chest and back sections were secured, she held her arms out to the side, allowing the folded armguards to extend and snap into place.

Next, she put on the gauntlets, wiggling her fingers experimentally to ensure that there were no jams. Her helmet completed the set, snapping on to the neck-guard and allowing the braces to extend into place. With everything on, she activated the environmental seals, allowing the various pieces of armor to click together. Once the armor's computer systems found the seals satisfactory, a green light blinked in the bottom left of her helmet HUD, signalling to her that she was combat ready. Beside her, Auguste had just finished with his own suit and was making some experimental movements to make sure there were no jams caused by loose debris in the joints. Julia did the same, and as expected there were none.

With their armoring completed, they were now clear to proceed to the next section of the armory where the weapons were stored. Julia and Auguste were a heavy weapons team, and they armed themselves accordingly. Julia, whose job it was to spot for her partner and keep him covered, grabbed a standard plasma rifle and pistol, along with a helmet-mounted holotargeter and a standard set of grenades. Meanwhile, Auguste grabbed a blaster launcher and a submachine gun. Instead of grenades, he would carry a case of missiles with him.

"Ready?" Julia asked, watching her partner inspect several cases of anti-tank missiles before deciding on one. Lifting the heavy case with ease thanks to his armor, he walked over to the armory exit.

"Yeah. Let's go." He said, before following her into the drop pod bay. Hundreds of soldiers were already inside, waiting patiently while their pod pilots ran through pre-drop checks.

Where early Human drop pods had been single-man disposable craft, modern ones were more like highly specialized shuttles intended for a hard planetary approach. Each one could carry a squad of eight normal human soldiers, four MEC or SPARK units, or any combination of these. Julia's squad had one SPARK attached to it, which filled multiple roles within the squad. Being an ME-30 Legionnaire, the SPARK body was armed with a heavy rotary plasma cannon, as well as a powerful automortar. In addition the Legionnaire carried a USV-9 Imp drone, which was designed for reconnaissance and cyberwarfare.

"Greetings." The mech waved as they approached.

"Where's everyone else?" Auguste asked.

"Right here." Christina Scott, one of her squad's two riflemen and its leader, answered as she stepped around from the other side of the pod. The other, a man named Liang Hu, merely waved behind her. Lauren and Scottie Ross, a pair of twins who made up the squad's sniper team, greeted them a moment later as they stepped around the other side of the pod.

"Good, looks like everyone's here." Another voice, this one coming from inside the pod, told them that their pilot was almost ready.

"Pre-drop checks are almost complete. Given how you were the first squad to meet me, you will be the first one I carry down. Countermeasure pods just started dropping, so we should be heading out in about fifteen minutes with the first wave." The pilot continued.

"How many squads have you got in total?" Christina asked.

"Our transport is at full capacity and has all its pods, so three squads should be enough. After that, I'll be making ordinance and cargo runs." The pilot replied.

"Understood. Alright team, you heard the man. We're going in with the first wave, which means there will be more X-rays for us to kill. The fleet went over the entire city, but was operating under restricted ROE so they didn't smash the place up as well as we would have liked. As such, we're gonna have to make up for it! We get down there, and we're gonna kill anything that lacks a human IFF! Get that?" The squad leader demanded.

"Yes ma'am!" The rest of the squad chorused.

"Pre-drop checks complete." The pilot said a moment later.

"Good, everyone in!" Christina ordered, and the squad complied. The SPARK went in first, strapping itself into a specialized harness opposite the entrance while the rest of the squad found their seats. Once everyone was inside, the entrance door began to rise, quickly sealing itself shut. For a moment, the pod's interior was dark before red lights illuminated it.

"This may be our first real drop, but we've seen these aliens on Shanxi! They are nothing special, and every one of us is worth a hundred of them! Remember your training, and we will all come back alive." Their leader continued speaking.

"Pod is sealed, we are first in line for deployment." The pilot's voice came down from the cockpit a minute later.

"You hear that? Time to go!" As Christina spoke the pod began to move, being carried along a rack to its deployment gate.

"Buckle up if you haven't already! We're about to hit space!" The pilot shouted as a hologram shimmered into being in the center of the pod. It showed the ruined alien city, along with an estimate of their drop point. Right now, it was a large yellow space covering half the city, but it would shrink as the pod fell and the probable landing points shrunk in number.

Julia checked to make sure her harness was on securely, knowing from experience how painful an unharnessed drop could be.

"We're out." The pilot said a moment later, gravity vanishing for a moment before the pod's artificial gravity fields activated. It shuddered for a moment as it undocked from the transport, but aside from that the first part of the drop was smooth.

"Orienting retrograde. Drop window is approaching ideal moment. We drop in two minutes." The pilot continued to speak, just as much to himself as to the squad he was carrying.

Those minutes passed in tense silence, nobody speaking as the pod cleared the transport formation. It, along with thousands of others, weaved through sets of evasive maneuvers to throw off any surface to orbit weaponry that may be aimed at them.

Then, a loud siren blared and the pod began to decelerate. Thousands of pods burned retrograde until their atmospheric descent paths were nearly vertical. To do so meant subjecting the pod to immense stress from atmospheric friction, but it also meant that the enemy would have only a few minutes to target the descending craft, thus ensuring that the cargo landed safely.

For a while, nothing happened as the pods fell through empty space. Then, the shaking began. Slowly at first, but rapidly growing in intensity until it felt like the whole craft was going to break apart at any moment. Julia's harness creaked as her body was pushed up into it, her armor preventing any injuries but not stopping the fear of something going wrong. Though rare, there were cases of hardware failures that caused pods to fail to brake in time, and those never had good results. Fortunately for her, the brakes seemed to work this time and she was pushed down into her seat by the resulting G-force. Of course, this brought a new fear with it as she desperately tried not to vomit, knowing just how bad it was to throw up in one's helmet from her time in Luna Academy.

Fortunately for her, she held it in successfully as the pod began firing off countermeasures. Grav-flares flew off the sides of the pod, and when combined with the chaff cloud released by the countermeasure pods, they would be indistinguishable from the real thing. She wondered how much fire the aliens on the ground were putting up, imagining the pod falling through an inferno of missiles and the particle pulses these aliens seemed to favor.

"Missiles away!" The pilot shouted nearly half a minute later, and the craft shook once more. Hopefully, the missiles would be enough to clear the pod's main landing zone.

"Setting down in ten seconds! Five! Four! Three! Two! O-" The 'one' was cut off as the pod slammed home, the bulk of the shock thankfully being absorbed by the pod's inertial compensators. In the same instant, the harnesses snapped up, and two doors opened up on the sides of the pod. The SPARK was the first out of one, while Hu was the first out the other.

Julia was he third out of her door, following Christina into a darkened city. Although it was just after midday, the city was covered by a thick black cloud of metal chaff, which blotted out the sun in its entirety. A few tracers streaked skyward, but by and large the aliens seemed to be holding their fire as missiles rained down on their position.

As they sprinted to cover, a lone machine gun opened fire, spraying their position with particle pulses. A few struck Julia's shields, but thankfully weren't enough to breach them before a missile streaked down from above and slammed into the alien gunner's position. The gun fell silent, and a pod slammed into its position a few seconds later.

Julia found cover among the ruins of what seemed to have once been a statue in the center of a park, although now it was just a few large stones littering a cratered field.

She saw muzzle flashes coming from a ruined building several hundred meters away, the tracers identifying the shooters as aliens.

"Hostiles in the ruined building, third from the right." She reported.

"I see them. Marking now." Lauren Ross replied, and the building was highlighted on their HUD a moment later.

"I have one in my sights." Her twin brother reported.

"Weapons free." Christina signaled, and the sniper fired.

"Got him." Scottie reported as Julia switched to infrared and lined up her own shot. Her burst missed, instead demolishing a section of concrete wall, while the rest of the squad sans Auguste opened fire. Concrete was blown into slag and several pieces of flammable materials ignited as the alien position was inelegantly destroyed, its inhabitants dying alongside it.

"Clear, move up." Christina ordered after a few seconds. The squad obeyed, sprinting to the next pieces of cover. Christina paused there, raising a hand and signalling that she was receiving orders. A few seconds passed, punctuated by distant gunfire, before Christina spoke again.

"Alright, looks like this park is our LZ. However, the aliens have a bunker half a klick north of here that orbital strikes didn't manage to seal. We're to get over there ASAP and help set up a killzone before they can get out. Let's move." She ordered, and the squad followed her lead.

They had just reached the edge of the park before Christina paused again.

"Change of plans, a wave of X-rays just managed to exit the bunker. We have to contain them before any more can break out." She said a moment later, just as a pair of plasma bombs streaked down from the sky and impacted somewhere ahead of them. Julia looked up and swore.

"Those came from somewhere above the chaff cloud! They could have come down right on top of us!" She exclaimed.

"Damn naval fliers should leave the atmosphere to our boys." Auguste muttered.

"Quiet, you two. Fox, get your Imp in the air. Give us a bird's eye view." Christina ordered. The SPARK complied immediately, launching its drone into the air. A few seconds passed before their leader swore.

"Shit, we've got tanks inbound. Two streets down, about to come around the corner. Take them out." She ordered.

"Roger." Julia and Auguste chorused, dashing for cover. By the time the alien tanks drove around the corner, the squad had vanished from view.

"Link up." Julia muttered, looking over the concrete wall she was hiding behind.

"Receiving. Launcher ready." Auguste replied.

"Mark one." Julia said, painting the lead vehicle with her holo-targeter.

"Mark clear. Fire one." Auguste answered, his words punctuated by the sound of the blaster launcher firing. The shot flew straight up for a split second before performing a sharp turn and streaking towards the enemy vehicle. One hit, and the alien tank went up in a burst of bright light, the tandem charge breaching its shields before melting through the vehicle's thin roof.

"Target down. Mark two." Julia reported, watching nervously as the tank's turret rapidly traversed to face Auguste's position. Before her partner could respond, the vehicle fired.

"Shit, man down!" Lauren exclaimed as the smoke cleared.

"Hold position. Nobody move." Christina ordered and Julia froze, barely restraining herself from rushing over to her partner.

"Hold... Hold... Their commander just unbuttoned. Julia, you're the closest to the road. When the tank passes by, rush it and toss a grenade down the turret. The rest of us will cover you." Julia's fist clenched at the order.

"They've started moving again. Attack on my mark." As she heard the words, she pulled a grenade off her bandolier, flipping off its timer guard with her thumb while drawing her pistol with her other hand.

"Wait for it... Wait for it... GO! GO! GO!" The last two words were redundant, as she had already broken cover, while gunfire from her squad took down several of the tank's escorting soldiers. Three long strides and she reached the tank. The alien inside made the mistake of reaching for a sidearm instead of shutting the hatch, allowing her to clamber onto the vehicle and grab onto the rapidly traversing turret. A second later, her pistol was in the alien's face and she pulled the trigger. Then, she pressed the timer on her grenade and tossed it down the hatch after the alien's body. She leaped off a second later, just barely avoiding a burst of alien gunfire that sparked off the doomed tank's shields.

Lacking the time to draw her rifle, she returned fire with her pistol instead. The first shot went wild, the second glanced off her target's shields, and the third was thrown off by the tank blowing up. Before she could finish off her startled target, a burst of precisely-aimed cannon fire took off the alien's head.

"Clear." Christina reported once the shooting had stopped. By then, Julia was already running over to check on her partner. Upon reaching his cover however, she quickly saw that there was no saving him. The alien high-explosive shell had pulverized his cover, overwhelmed his shields and shattered his chest-plate into several pieces, several of which had been driven deep into his body.

Lauren rushed past her, kneeling next to the corpse and confirming the obvious.

"He's dead." She stated. Julia opened her mouth to say something, but Fox spoke up first.

"Hostile infantry inbound, ETA: 50 seconds. They know we're here." The SPARK reported.

"Get... Get into cover. Fox, lay down some mortar fire on them. Julia, you alright?" Christina ordered.

"Yeah..." Julia muttered, forcing down any feelings she had to the contrary. The battlefield was no place for them.

"Good. Time for some payback. I don't want a single one of those alien bastards to get out of this fight alive." Julia nodded at that and ducked down beside her partner's body. Several seconds passed before the echoes of automortar impacts reached her ears.

"Direct hit on enemy infantry. Multiple casualties." Fox reported.

"Fire as soon as they come around the corner!" Christina ordered, right as a trio of alien soldiers did just that. Julia's first burst caught one in the chest, and without even a flash of shields it went down.

A few seconds later several objects were thrown around the corner, expanding into glowing energy barricades as they hit the ground. The next few aliens dove for them, three of them managing to reach safety before Fox laid down suppressing fire on the corner area.

"Grenade out!" Hu called out, throwing a plasma grenade as he did so. It bounced off of one of the energy barricades and went off on the wrong side. Still, it was enough to overload and destroy two of them, exposing the aliens using them for cover. None of them made it to safety this time.

"Fox, keep up the suppressing fire. The rest of you, move up." Christina ordered. They were halfway down the street before Fox called out a warning.

"Incoming enemy aircraft." The SPARK warned, and Julia instinctively dove for cover. The few seconds warning she had been given were barely enough for her to throw herself into a bombardment crater before the missiles hit. The two alien fighters screamed overhead a few moments later, barely clearing the buildings with how low they were flying.

"Shit, they've flanked us! Pull back into the buildings!" Christina shouted as alien gunfire began to stream from the ruined buildings to the right of the road. As several shots slammed into her shields, Julia stood and ran, her shields breaking under sustained fire just before she reached the safety of a pulverized structure. Pain shot through her as several alien gunshots punched through her back armor, and she barely managed to drag herself behind a still-standing piece of concrete before she blacked out.

* * *

As the elevator ground to a halt, Sicron braced for the inevitable. Right now, the sounds of battle outside were distant and muted, barely audible over the sounds of the tank engines inside.

That sound was magnified a hundredfold as the elevator doors opened, revealing a wide tunnel that had been hastily dug by the engineering teams. One corner of it had been turned into a field hospital, where several medics tended to their charges. The hastily erected supports were spaced barely wide enough for the tanks to proceed single file between them.

"Go! Everyone out! MOVE!" An officer shouted, although he needn't have bothered. The tanks were already rushing out of the trench, and Sicron joined the mob of infantry behind them. The tunnel soon opened into a wide trench, although judging by the half-burnt bodies and patches of strange, charred earth strewn throughout it, the trench was rather poor cover.

"Get to cover!" Someone shouted, and Sicron obeyed, rushing forward before hunkering down against a chunk of concrete that served to reinforce one of the edges of the trench. The sound of gunfire, both Turian and alien, filled his ears. Alava stopped next to him, while one of the officers who had been in their elevator found cover nearby.

"What's the situation?" The officer asked, shouting to be heard as an anti-air tank opened up nearby, firing into a nearby building that had managed to keep its bottom twenty stories mostly intact.

"The three-fourteens have managed to take Nessari Memorial Park, and drone flyovers are telling us that they are preparing to turn it into a landing zone. We're trying to coordinate with the other nearby bunkers to take it back, but right now the only bunker that isn't surrounded like we are is the Casta bunker to the North, and the aliens are converging on it as we speak." Another officer replied.

"We need to break out now, while the enemy is still limitedto infantry and light armor. If they can manage to land and bring out their heavies, we won't-" Whatever the officer was saying was drowned out by the sound of the anti-air tank's destruction.

"Shit, there goes another one!" A nearby soldier exclaimed.

"As I was saying, we're about to make another push. Most of the alien troops are concentrated in what's left of the Teralis Tower. If we can take it, we should be able to break out!" The officer continued, gesturing towards the twenty-story ruin up ahead. Curiosity overcoming caution, Sicron stepped up onto the concrete slab and peeked over the lip of the trench.

Between the tower and the trench was a field of battered concrete and metal that had once been a row of buildings, some small portions still standing. Green fire streaked across it, paralyzing the Turian forces exiting the bunker. That was when the rest of the officer's words caught up to him. Another push was coming? Indeed, as he surveyed the ruins, he began to see the bodies of those who came before him, some leaning against the burnt-out wrecks of Turian tanks. Some of those bodies were still moving, and indeed tracers still rose from scattered pockets of troops that had managed to find adequate cover within the no-man's land that had formed.

Ducking back down, Sicron steeled himself. If another push was coming, he would be part of it.

"Alright, everyone up! We have to take Teralis Tower! This could be our last chance! Prepare to move!" Another officer called out over a megaphone, his voice echoing throughout the trench. Sicron tensed, gripping his rifle tightly. His few years of protecting colonies on the Terminus border and patrolling Citadel space were nothing in comparison to what was about to take place.

"Here it comes..." Alava murmured, barely audible over the sound of battle. Several strike fighters flew overhead as she spoke, wings heavy with ordinance and guns already blazing. As the roar of their bombs striking home washed over the trench, the officer with the megaphone shouted once again.

"TIME TO MOVE! OVER THE TOP, SOLDIERS! WE ARE TAKING THE TOWER! FORWARD!" He screamed, his words lost in the subsequent battle-cry that went up within the trench. The tanks that were being held within deeper portions of the trench began to move, heading towards shallower ramps leading into the debris field. Sicron moved with the troops around him, stepping up onto the concrete barrier and hoisting himself over the lip of the trench.

The militaman ahead of him stumbled on the uneven ground that had once been a towering structure, and Sicron just barely avoided stepping on him. Then, he too fell as a nearby tank took a missile and went up in flames. Alava caught him and helped him back to his feet before he hit the ground. Then the alien machine gunners, who had been dazed by the bombing run, regained their bearings and began to open fire. Blue-green fire raked the Turian force, and the bodies began to fall. Sicron kept pushing on, finding an IFV that was still advancing and attempting to stay behind it. Alien gunfire washed over its shields, the IFV returning fire with its heavy machine gun.

About halfway to the Teralis Tower, the IFV ground to a halt. Its shields had been broken, and focused alien gunfire had melted through its frontal armor. Its gun kept firing, but it was only a matter of time before it too fell silent.

Fortunately, a large concrete column had been knocked on its side nearby and was intact enough to provide adequate cover. As alien gunfire moved away from his position, Sicron gathered his courage and dashed forward, ducking down behind the column before the alien gunner could target him. Alava made it as well, along with several members of the IFV's crew. Others weren't so lucky, and one such soldier's body fell beside him, his chest blown wide open.

Muttering a quick apology, Sicron grabbed the dead man's grenades and rifle, exchanging it for his own. A tank cannon firing nearby told him that the charge was still ongoing, the vehicle in question pushing past him several moments later. Its cannon fired again and again, while its coaxial machine gun glowed red as it tried to suppress enemy positions. Sicron saw the shells impact near the top of the building, causing a portion of its uppermost floor to collapse. The gunfire from that section stopped and did not resume.

"We need to keep moving, or we'll be pinned down here!" Alava exclaimed.

"There! There's a small path through the concrete! If we can get to it, we'll be safe from the worst of the gunfire!" One of the IFV's crewmen shouted, and Sicron followed his pointed finger to see a barely noticeable tunnel entrance in the debris covered by an overhanging section of metal cladding. Something had recently collapsed there, and the result was a relatively safe path for infantry.

"Go! NOW!" The crewman exclaimed, and Sicron rushed forward, leaping over the column just as a missile struck the nearby tank. He was the first into the trench. Behind him, a crewman screamed as he was hit, but the rest of them kept running. Sicron looked back to see another one stumble and fall, an alien gunshot killing him before he could get up.

Alava screamed a moment later, and Sicron's heart froze as she was hit. A second later she stumbled into the tunnel, a biotic barrier still shimmering around her. The left sleeve of her coat was burning, but she quickly extinguished it with a flash of indigo light.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"No, by the Goddess I am not alright!" She exclaimed, breathing heavily as another soldier died just feet from safety.

"Give me your arm." One of the soldiers who had survived the run ordered, and Alava complied. The soldier reached into a satchel and pulled out a numbing bandage.

"This will stop the pain. Seek medical attention once this is over." He ordered, before wrapping the bandage around the burn. Alava winced in pain, before sighing in relief.

"You, go on ahead. See how far this tunnel goes." The medic continued, turning to Sicron.

"Understood." He replied, before turning away and beginning the slow, cautious journey through the tunnel.

After what felt like an eternity, the roof provided by the cladding disappeared and the trench's walls began to slope away until they were no longer safe to hide behind. Peeking out of the safe zone, Sicron saw Teralis Tower looming up ahead. Barely five steps away a section of the tower's wall had collapsed, the resulting hole making a tempting entrance.

Then, Sicron saw the alien sentries behind an upended desk, and immediately ducked back into cover. He crawled back through to where the rest of the group, now down to six combat capable troops including him and Alava, were waiting.

"The tunnel exits pretty close to an entrance to Teralis Tower's right side. I saw two guards, and the last few steps are out in the open." He reported.

"Good." One of the soldiers, a Sergeant judging by his rank insignia, replied before activating his radio.

"Bunker command, this is Sergeant Kaser. I've got a squad of four legionnaires plus two militia in position to attempt an assault on Teralis Tower through a tunnel in the wreckage field. Tower entry point is a wrecked section of the wall on the right side of the tower face. Requesting orders." Kaser's helmet muffled the reply, preventing Sicron from hearing it, but after a while the sergeant spoke up again.

"How many?" Again, the response was muffled and unintelligible.

"Understood, we will hold position. Sending tunnel location to you now." Kaser finished before turning to the rest of the group.

"Alright, Command has ordered everyone able to try and get to the tunnel. This means one final push from the bunker. We are to wait until they can get armor into position to assist us, then attack. Understood?"

"Understood." The rest of the group chorused, before moving down the tunnel, nearing the exit but remaining out of sight. Once in position, they settled down to wait, unable to do anything but listen as the gunfire intensified yet again.

"Ah! Did... Did anyone else feel that?" Alava suddenly exclaimed.

"What? I didn't feel anything." Sicron replied, confused.

"I... I felt... Something just touched my mind. Like a bonding, but different." The Asari muttered.

"Must be the stress getting to you, making you feel things that aren't there." Kaser said.

"No, I know what I-" Alava was cut off as alien gunfire began to come down around the tunnel exit.

"What's going on?" Kaser demanded.

"They're suppressing the tunnel exit!" One of the soldiers exclaimed.

"But... You, were you seen when you did your scouting run?" Kaser demanded, rounding on Sicron.

"No! If they did, they would have either shot at me or started suppressing us a lot earlier. Maybe they picked up your transmission?" Sicron exclaimed.

"Maybe, but-" Before Kaser could finish, Alava screamed.

"No! N-NO! G-GET OUT OF MY HE-" Sicron jumped back as her biotics began to flare.

"Stop! You'll bring this tunnel down on top of us!" Kaser exclaimed as the Asari continued to thrash. All of a sudden, her struggles stopped and she raised her rifle. Without any hesitation, she fired a long burst into Kaser's chest, quickly overwhelming his shields and killing him.

The rest of the soldiers in the tunnel opened fire, and Alava did not raise her biotic barrier. Two seconds after she shot Kaser, she was dead before she hit the ground. Sicron watched it all in shock.

"Alava!" He exclaimed, rushing to her side and rolling her over. Her face was blank and emotionless in death, with no sign of surprise or pain evident in her final expression. However it was her eyes that surprised Sicron the most, as they had gone completely black.

"What the hell just happened?" One of the soldiers demanded.

"I don't know..." Another whispered, aghast.

"Did you hear what she said, just before she went crazy?" The third asked.

"I... I heard 'Get out of my head', but... Spirits, do these aliens have some kind of mind altering weapon?" The first exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice.

"The firing at the exit has stopped. I think-" The soldier began, before suddenly stopping and drawing his pistol, aiming it at Sicron. Sicron was faster though, and before the trigger could be pulled he was already leaping at his would-be killer. The shot went wild, and the other two Turians in the tunnel sprang into action, pulling the two of them apart. Sicron's attacker went limp as they did so, not bothering to resist.

"What's gotten into you?" Sicron demanded. His attacker said nothing.

"Spirits, it's true, isn't it? They're targeting our minds!" The soldier holding on to the other Turian muttered, his grip slackening for just a moment. Immediately, his captive sprang into action, ripping loose and diving for the pistol that had been knocked out of his hand. As the rest of the tunnel's occupants tried to restrain him, the soldier grabbed the gun and aimed it at his own head. Before anyone could stop him, he pulled the trigger.

"No! Cedos!" One of the remaining two soldiers shouted as his comrade's body fell to the ground.

"They're picking us off, one by one!" The other survivor exclaimed.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm not going to die like this!" The first soldier said, raising his rifle and turning towards the exit. Sicron grabbed his own and turned to follow him.

"But... Our orders-"

"Damn our orders! Everyone is dead, the enemy is turning us against each other, and the rest of the militia in the bunker are about to get gunned down! We're all dead men walking now, and the least we can do is die standing! If you're with me, get going. If not, wait here until the enemy makes you turn your gun on yourself or whatever unlucky militiaman makes it in here."

"... Fine. Let's go." The soldier said, raising his own rifle.

"Alright, we go out the exit and kill as many of them as possible. We move in three... two... one... GO!" At that, the three of them charged, Sicron bringing up the rear. As soon as they exited the tunnel, the two alien sentries opened up on them. He raised his own gun and returned fire, even as the first soldier's shields sparked and faded, another shot slamming home and flinging his body back a moment later. The second soldier died a moment later, but not before his own shots hit home. They sparked off one of the aliens' shields, breaking it before he too died. As Sicron took aim at the vulnerable alien he felt a searing pain in his leg, causing him to fall forward. He fired a second later, a single one of his shots hitting the alien in the head.

He crawled forward, trying to aim at the other alien, but his sight was already fading. One final burst of blue-green light filled his vision, and everything went black. Sicron Palleias died then, one hand on the cracked stone floor of Teralis tower.

* * *

"Wake up!" Julia's eyes fluttered open at that.

"Whew, I thought I was going to lose another one for a second." Christina sighed in relief. Julia sat up as her squad leader spoke, feeling the ache of deep wounds that medi-gel had treated but not completely healed.

"I... How long was I out?" Julia asked.

"A few minutes, and most of that was thanks to sedatives." Christina replied.

"What about-"

"The aliens? Another pod came down on top of them. They didn't stand a chance. Now come on, we're running late and we have to get to the alien bunker. One of our transports just came down and landed some heavy armor, so it shouldn't be too hard to take out the remaining X-rays in the area." Christina explained, just as a pair of T-109s floated past.

"Can you stand? I know that sometimes the sedatives can-" Christina asked, offering her hand.

"No, I'm fine." Julia replied, accepting the hand and pulling herself up.

"Good. Let's move." With those words, Christina turned and headed back onto the road. Julia followed, noting the alien corpses that were now strewn all over it. Judging by how some of them had fallen, her squad had shot them in the back as they tried to retreat from something else.

"You alright?" Scottie asked as she went and grabbed Auguste's blaster launcher.

"I'm fine." She replied, trying not to look at her partner's body which still lay nearby. Strapping the launcher to her back, she grabbed its ammunition next, carrying the case in one hand while her other held her rifle. Without any further response, she hurried after Christina. There was still work to be done, and she had a score to settle.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's a wrap! I originally intended to add in a Zaeed scene near the end, but I've decided to instead devote this chapter entirely to the Trakia battle, while the next chapter will be more focused on Luna Academy and politics, both Council and Human. The reason for this is that there are too many worlds on the way to Palaven for me to write each and every battle, so I will only write the major/notable ones while passing time on Luna and on the Citadel.**

 **As usual, I would like your opinion on this chapter. It has been a while since I've written large-scale battles like this, so I want to know what needs improvement and what I have done well.**

 **Once again, I apologize for the delay. Time is a lot more scarce than it used to be for me.**


	9. Chapter 7: Unconditional Surrender

**A/N: This chapter is largely a political timeskip, created for the purpose of allowing the conflict to progress until its next major event. After all, if I wrote out every single colony invasion and minor skirmish, we would never get to Palaven.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Unconditional Surrender**

 _"Those damn traitors! They lived off of our hospitality for centuries, and what do they do? They betray us at the first damn opportunity! There is only one response to this, and that is extermination! When we find whatever rock they were stashed on, we are going to do what we should have done centuries ago and reduce those damn suit rats to dust under our guns!" -_ Vice-General Casseo Porati, Turian Second Fleet

 **Sol System, Luna Academy**

"Before you now is a standard PM-32V6 Plasma rifle! Now, all of you have held and used a weapon before, but I can guarantee that none of you have held a PM-32V6!" The instructor's words echoed throughout the giant hall, amplified by loudspeakers placed throughout the brightly lit room. They fell upon the ears of thousands of recruits, Zaeed among them. In front of every recruit was a simple plastic desk, and each desk held the aforementioned rifle. Beside each gun sat two spare magazines, an instructional manual, and a cleaning kit that the instructor would, presumably, instruct them in the proper use thereof.

The rifle itself was a thing of beauty to Zaeed's eye. Where the weapons he had used back on Shanxi were well used and probably older than him, the plasma rifle before him was clearly newly made, without even a single scratch in its grey factory finish. Compared to the early Human plasma rifles, with their skeletal open barrels and bulky alloy heat buffers, the PM-32V6 was on a whole new level.

"This marvel of human engineering before you far outstrips anything the aliens can throw at us. Each magazine holds exactly four hundred shots within it, and the weapon has infinite fire capability in atmospheric conditions. It has a maximum fire rate of five hundred shots per minute, and the only thing that kicks less than this beauty is a laser. It can reliably hurt targets over a kilometer and a half away, and at close range it can punch clean through ten centimeters of alloy plate. Today, you will be learning how to take care of it!"

The next few hours were spent doing just that. Many of the motions, such as opening and clearing the barrel of debris, had been drilled into him almost as soon as he started school, and while the weapon may have been newer the procedure was still identical. Others, such as the oiling and testing of the complex anti-recoil system, were new. He frowned as he flipped through the manual, trying to figure out why the weapon's stock was refusing to close after he had finished. Eventually, a passing instructor noticed his plight. It barely took a moment before the man figured it out.

"The parts are color coded for a reason, cadet. You matched red to green there, and now the slide won't move. Now start over." Zaeed complied, removing all necessary components and restarting the assembly process, somewhat hampered by the fact that he was wearing full armor.

He had repeated the process six times, with three of those being correct, when the class was addressed once again.

"This lesson is now concluded. From this point on you are to carry your rifle with you at all times. You are expected to keep it properly maintained, as you will be utilizing it during all shooting exercises, which start next week for you lot. Any signs of negligence in maintaining your rifle will result in disciplinary action. Dismissed!" At that, Zaeed picked up the rifle and shouldered it, before following the rest of the Shanxi cadets to their assigned staging area.

Sergeant Hardy met them there, and they immediately fell into formation. The sergeant moved down the line, occasionally correcting a cadet's grip, before addressing the group.

"Today marks the start of your third week of basic training. This means that today we're heading to the surface and starting combat exercises! Aren't you excited to finally start them?" He shouted.

"Sir yes sir!" The Shanxi cadets replied.

"Good. Company, left face!" As one, the cadets turned to their left, forming a single-file line towards the exit.

"Forward, march!" With those words nearly two hundred pairs feet moved in unison as the Shanxi Cadets moved out of the staging area. The nearest elevator to the lunar surface was twenty minutes away, a fact that Zaeed knew from experience.

Soon, the Shanxi Company was joined by another one heading in the same direction, their cadence calls mixing as they matched step and continued in unison. Yet another company soon passed them, heading in the opposite direction. This one did not carry weapons, but Zaeed recognized the colony insignia on their shoulders. These were a group that had come in from Ganymede a week after his own group, and judging by how the joints of their armor still carried traces of moon dust they had just come back from navigation training on the surface.

Eventually they reached the elevator, at which point Hardy had them march in place until it arrived. Then, they were marching in place once again as the elevator began its ascension to the surface, zig-zagging through gaps in the military base's orbital bombardment shield. With each layer they passed, they moved to another elevator, which would in turn carry them through another armored layer of the bombardment shield. At one point, Zaeed felt himself suddenly lighten as the elevator exited the base's artificial gravity fields, subjecting them to the moon's lower natural gravity.

Zaeed's legs ached by the time he reached the surface, but that was nothing new. As the company entered the airlock, Zaeed hurriedly checked his armor's vacuum seals, making sure that they were all in order before the air began to leave the room. Finally, once the atmosphere was evacuated, the door slid open and the cadets marched out. Soon, the companies began to split up, as Hardy led the Shanxi cadets off in one direction while the second company went in another.

Marching was easier now that they were out of the artificial gravity field, and the Shanxi company made it to their destination with little trouble. Soon they were standing at attention, as their sergeant briefed them on the coming exercise.

"This is the training ground we will be using for the next week for combat movement training! Here you will learn how to move and perform various tasks under fire! To that end, your training armor suits all come with a very special piece of equipment. Allow me to demonstrate!" As he spoke, Hardy activated a nearby computer and, upon finishing, pressed a button. A moment later, Zaeed's armor locked up and shifted slightly, causing him to lose his footing and fall to the ground. While he couldn't move his head, he could feel the impacts of his fellow cadets as they too came tumbling down.

"Right now, all of you are dead! I will explain the exercise, then bring you back to life!" Hardy continued.

"Today you will run the combat movement course. As I said before, you will learn how to move under fire. That means sticking to cover, keeping your time in the open minimal, maintaining proper spacing, and staying mobile. Stay still or out in the open for too long, and you're dead!" Simple enough, Zaeed noted. He had done similar exercises back on Shanxi, albeit on a much smaller scale and without armor.

"To make things more interesting, I can cause parts of your armor to lock up at any time, even if you're not considered dead! That means you will be considered wounded, but alive! The exercise ends when everyone still alive, wounded or otherwise, is on the other end of the field! Understood?" That part was new.

"Sir yes sir!" The Shanxi company chorused from where they lay.

"Alright, then you should all finish without any problems. Now pick an entry point and get moving!" As he spoke, Hardy unlocked their armor, and the cadets sprang to their feet, rushing for the nearest entry point.

Soon, Zaeed found himself inside a dark tunnel made to somewhat resemble the interior of a troop transport. He was firmly in the middle of the crowd, not too far from the entrance but also fairly close to the exit. Soon the entrance door slid shut, bathing the tunnel in darkness for a few short moments.

"Exercise begins... NOW! MOVE, MOVE! Anyone who waits too long in the transport DIES!" Hardy's shouted orders came in over the helmet comms just as the exit ramp dropped and the cadets rushed out. Thankfully, Zaeed's group was able to exit without any major problems, although a look around told him that not everyone was so lucky. However, he had little time to watch the traffic jam that had resulted in one of the nearby entry points, what with his concern being finding cover. Already, green bolts were streaking past overhead, fired from distant turrets. They were aimed too high to be any real danger, but it was a sign that the exercise had already started.

He soon found cover behind a large rock, at which point he truly took stock of the situation. Most of the cadets had managed to find cover, and the few that didn't were either down or sprinting to safety.

"Zaeed! We need to keep moving!" Vido's voice sounded out over his comms, and he looked around to see his friend several meters away, preparing to move out from behind an overturned crate.

"I'll follow you." Zaeed replied, peeking out over the top of his rock to look for the next piece of cover. It came in the form of a crater, one that was easily large enough to protect four or five people.

"Let's go!" With those words, Vido stood and sprinted for the crater. Zaeed followed, hunching over in order to provide as small a target as possible to the imaginary enemy.

"Whew... We made it!" Vido exclaimed as the two of them dove into the crater.

"We can't stay here for long. Where's the next piece of cover?" Zaeed asked as he lay against the glassy dirt of the crater. Evidently, their cover had been created by a plasma explosive.

Vido peeked out briefly before replying.

"There's a large piece of debris about seven meters away. It should be big enough for both of us." Zaeed nodded at that, before peeking out to see for himself.

However, just as he spotted the next piece of cover a line of explosives went off, kicking up a thick cloud of lunar dust that quickly expanded throughout the entire training field.

"Shit! There goes our visibility!" Vido exclaimed.

"We still know where the next cover is. Let's move, it will buy us some more time!" Zaeed replied.

"After you!" Vido replied, and the two of them leaped out of the crater, sprinting forward in the low lunar gravity until they reached the debris.

"Now what?" Vido asked as they paused. Zaeed looked out from behind their cover and shook his head.

"Can't see anything. These helmets don't have thermals or UV, so we're blind." He said.

"Then what are we supposed to do? Were we supposed to memorize the layout of this field beforehand?" Vido demanded.

"For all I know, we were... Wait..." Zaeed paused, and chanced another peek out of cover.

"What is it?"

"The plasma bolts overhead... I think that... There! I see our next piece of cover!"

"What? Are you sure?" Vido asked.

"Yeah, the light from the plasma bolts shone through for a moment. I saw a silhouette." He replied.

"Alright, I'll follow you, but I'm blaming you if this fails." Vido replied.

"Let's go then!" Zaeed replied, before sprinting out to the silhouette he had seen. Fortunately for him, his vision was good and he was able to spot the crate before he tripped over it.

"Whoa... You were right. I think I saw something a couple meters ahead of us." Vido noted.

"Lead on, then." Zaeed replied, and this time he was the one following his friend. He wasn't sure how much further they had to go, but based on what he had seen of the training field, they had to be nearing the halfway point. A quick glance around revealed the IFF markers of the other cadets all around him. Some were lying still behind them, probably as a result of a mistake they made, while others were still moving up with them.

"Shit!" Vido's curse came a moment before he fell to the ground.

"My legs just locked up! Just my luck!" He explained, and Zaeed didn't even stop to think before he reached down and grabbed his friend's hand. The next piece of cover was pretty close, and he quickly dragged Vido behind him.

"You alright?" He asked.

"Yeah, just mad at Hardass. Why did it have to be the legs and not some body part I didn't need to finish this course. Now what do we do?" Vido asked.

"You heard the sergeant. The exercise doesn't end until everyone alive is across the finish line, and while you're wounded you're still alive." Zaeed replied.

"Then what do you expect me to do, flop my way to the end like a goddamn fish? My legs are locked up!"

"I would have thought it was obvious. Sarge wants to see if I'll carry you out, so he took out your legs." Zaeed replied, before lifting his friend into a fireman's carry.

"Thanks. Even if we don't make it through this, I owe you one." Vido replied, taking Zaeed's useless rifle in one hand while holding his own in the other.

"We'll get through this. We're halfway through as it is." Zaeed replied, just as the next volley of plasma fire illuminated the next piece of cover.

It was much more difficult to sprint with Vido weighing him down, but thanks to Luna's low natural gravity, his friend wasn't too much of a burden.

He wasn't the first to cross the finish line, but he was the first to do so while carrying someone else.

"Nice job." Maria greeted him as he put Vido down.

"Thanks." Zaeed replied as he took a seat beside him.

"There aren't that many of us still up out there, and those that are still moving should be across the finish line soon." Maria commented as she sat down on his other side.

"So, what are your thoughts on all of this?" Vido asked.

"It's only gonna get harder. In a week, we'll have to start shooting back, and after that we'll be starting virtual scenarios." Zaeed replied.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm looking forward to virtuals. I heard that's where the special regiments take notice of you." Maria said as another cadet carried a partially immobilized friend over the finish line. Most of the stragglers were similarly burdened, and one by one they set down their burdens before settling down to rest. However, the plasma guns continued firing.

"Wait, why isn't the exercise over? Everyone's across, right?" Maria asked.

"Yeah, it should be over now, unless... Fuck. Someone must have been left behind." Zaeed replied.

"What do we do?" Maria asked.

"Well, the exercise doesn't end until everyone still alive is across. Let's go." He replied, standing up.

"Vido, can you move?" Maria asked as she followed suit. Vido twitched his legs in response, before shaking his head.

"Knees are still locked up." He said.

"Alright. Zaeed, lead the way." Maria replied, turning to face the slowly thinning dust cloud.

"Good luck!" Vido shouted as the two of them rushed back into the training field.

"Which one is it? The dead ones still have their IFFs active!" Maria shouted as they dove over and behind a large boulder.

"I don't know. We're going to have to check them all." Zaeed replied.

"What, just the two of us? There's more than twenty people down there!" Maria exclaimed.

"Not just us. Looks like we're not the only ones going back in." Zaeed replied, looking up over their cover to see several other teams of cadets moving out.

"That's good... Zaeed, I think that one's the closest. Let's go check him." Maria replied, pointing to an IFF signal a few meters away. The next plasma barrage illuminated the area, and they saw that there was no cover around him.

"No cover nearby. We'll have to drag him back." Zaeed replied.

"Too slow. I'll go out and check him, you stay here. If he's dead, I'll run to the next body and signal you. If he's wounded, I'll drag him over here, take cover to reset the timer, and then we carry him out. Got it?" Maria explained.

"Roger." Zaeed replied, before he settled down and watched his partner run out towards the downed signal. A few moments later, her IFF bobbed up and down before moving towards the next closest signal. Evidently, that first one was dead. He looked around for a moment, before one of the downed IFFs twitched slightly.

"I'm over here!" Zaeed recognized that voice as Victor's. Unfortunately, the boy's signal was a good twenty meters away. Fortunately, another burst of plasma came in and illuminated the sole piece of cover between them. Not wanting to stay still for any longer, Zaeed sprinted towards it.

"I've got one!" Maria reported.

"I've found one as well. You'll have to carry yours out on your own." Zaeed replied.

"Alright... Up you go!" Maria muttered, hoisting her charge up and over her shoulder before starting her trip back to the finish line. The other cadets that had gone back were already checking their downed comrades, and he saw several of them bend down to pick up their wounded. Several more had gone down, immobilized due to a mistake on their part.

Fortunately, Victor was in cover, and Zaeed was able to pick him up without having to drag him around first.

"My rifle's back there! I dropped it when I fell!" Victor exclaimed.

"Where?" Zaeed asked.

"I don't know, I got a face full of moon dust when I fell over, and I haven't been able to properly clear off my lenses." Victor replied. Zaeed muttered a few choice curse words as he looked back. Fortunately, it hadn't fallen far, and he was able to retrieve it without issue.

"Here. Don't drop it again, because we're not stopping." He said as Victor took the weapon in his one functioning hand. Then, he hoisted his downed comrade up onto his back and began to look for cover.

He was able to make it back to the finish line without any further complications, but the same was not true for many others. Of the cadets who had gone back into the training field, less than half had made it back, and several of those had come back being carried by someone else.

Sergeant Hardy was waiting for them as they struggled across the finish line. Although his helmet obscured his face, Zaeed knew he was scowling.

"What the hell was that? Everyone who did not go back, drop for fifty!" Three quarters of the still mobile cadets dropped at that. Zaeed winced as he watched them struggle, their armor resisting their movements to compensate for the reduced gravity.

"Let me ask you something... What is it that separates us from the aliens?" Hardy asked, turning to the still standing cadets, who had quickly fallen in line. It was evidently a rhetorical question, as the sergeant continued moments later.

"It is our humanity. To them, each death is just a number. They don't give a damn about each other! They are just pawns in the Ethereals' sick game, and they live and die not as people, but as tools! We are different! Where the enemy marches unflinchingly into machine gun fire and dies by the thousand, we think of ways to take out that gun without losing a single man! Where they leave their wounded behind to die, we do our damnedest to get them back, so that we can patch them up and send them back into the fight! So when your comrades over there left their friends behind, they became less than human! That's why they are on the ground, while you are still standing!"

As the sergeant spoke, Zaeed looked down at the disorganized rabble on the ground.

"You are one unit! You will watch your comrades' backs while they watch your own, both in this academy and out on the battlefield, and if I ever see any one of you leave a buddy behind... I will do everything in my power to make the rest of your life here on Luna hell! Understood?"

"Sir yes sir!" The Shanxi Cadets chorused.

"Good. Now, back to the starting line! We're running the course again!" Hardy ordered, and the cadets obeyed.

* * *

 **Citadel, Council Chambers**

"Councillor, the Batarian delegation has arrived. They are waiting for us." The hologram of Dalatrass Verlin spoke, and Barakis nodded in response.

"Good. I will be along shortly." He replied.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Barakis." Verlin said as he stood up from his desk.

"I have your vote, don't I? So long as I have that, we can bring the Batarians into the war. I have already negotiated the terms of the agreement, and you found them acceptable. With the two of us, along with the Batarian representative, we can override Tevos." He answered, walking out of the door.

"We're still giving them a lot of territory."

"The Traverse is probably full of hostile aliens. I'm not giving it to them to be generous, I'm giving it to them so that they can try and open up a second front."

"I know, and I will trust your peoples' judgement. You have my vote." The hologram echoed the Salarian councilor's voice, and Barakis looked around to see Verlin standing several feet away. He shut off the hologram and greeted her. She nodded back, before the two of them entered the Council chamber. Tevos was already there, and judging by the scowl on her face she already knew what was going to happen.

They had barely assumed their places at the councilors' podium when the Batarian envoy spoke up. Barakis hid his distaste for the four-eyed alien with practiced ease. Couldn't they have at least sent someone polite?

Still, he made a show of listening as the Batarian went on and on about the need for new living room for the Batarian people, the strength of the mighty Batarian military, and all sorts of other bluster that he would have ignored a few months earlier, before Turian colonies started falling left and right to a seemingly unstoppable alien menace.

"... And in conclusion, the Batarian Hegemony is generously willing to contribute its endless resources and military might to the aid of the Turian Hierarchy in their war against the alien invaders, in exchange for the Citadel Council granting the Hegemony exclusive exploration and colonization rights for the entirety of the Attican Traverse, along with ten thousand light years of the eastern Terminus Neutral Zone. In addition, we demand that the Council escort our ships through the Terminus, so that our convoys and troops may arrive unhindered by the pirates of the region." The envoy concluded, his four eyes staring expectantly at the council's podium.

"Absolutely not! By doing so, we will provoke an all-out war with the Terminus Systems, not to mention the fact that the majority of the Attican Traverse is concealed behind closed relays! Your race has contributed next to nothing to the galactic community, and yet you expect to receive exorbitant amounts of territory in exchange for a service you should have already been providing?" This time, Barakis and Verlin did not bother to hide their feelings.

"You claim that all Citadel races should be contributing to the defeat of the alien menace, and yet I have yet to see any Asari units on the front line. The Batarians are on the opposite side of the galaxy, and you call them insolent for requesting some empty territory in exchange for military assistance? Simply by making that offer, the Batarians have done more to aid the war effort than your people, Tevos. I, Councilor Barakis, representative of the Turian Hierarchy, vote in favor of the Batarian proposal for military aid." He spoke. Verlin nodded beside him.

"I, Councilor Verlin, representative of the Salarian Union, vote in favor of the Batarian hegemony." The Dalatrass kept her own speech short.

"I, Councilor Tevos, representative of the Asari Republics, vote against the Batarian Hegemony, for all it's worth. Please, councilors, I beg of you to reconsider. We have all seen what the Batarians are like. They will stop at nothing to-" Tevos began, before Verlin cut her off.

"That was rather rude of you, Councilor. This Council has voted in favor of the Batarian Hegemony."

"Thank you, Envoy Odakal. Soon, we will see Batarians standing shoulder to shoulder with Turians, Salarians, Volus and Elcor on the front lines. Perhaps, after this war is over, one of your people may even stand beside my successor on this very podium." With those words, Barakis turned away and walked out of the room, Verlin following behind him. Of course he had no intention of calling for the Batarians to join the Council, as while the four-eyes were necessary they were not by any means a race he wanted to possess actual political influence. Still, the possibility had been thrown out, giving the Batarians a bit more motivation to stay in the war.

* * *

 **Syglar System, Turian Space**

"Attention Quarian Migrant Fleet! This relay is currently under martial law by order of the Turian Hierarchy. You must submit valid authorization codes in order to pass through. If you do not have valid authorization codes, you must maintain a distance of at least five light minutes from the relay." The message from the fleet guarding the Syglar Relay was disheartening, to say the least.

"Is there anything we can do? Can we offer them supplies? That's how we got through the previous relay!" Admiral Lea'Shan vas Neema asked. The communications officer hailed the Turian fleet again, before shaking his head.

"No, they're not even responding to our transmissions anymore. We've tried to offer them some of the foodstuffs we have left, but they just played this damn message again!" He replied.

"Can't we go over his head? If we can convince his superiors to let us through, we can-"

"No. Judging by the size of that fleet, they have a General in command, and the people he answers to aren't in this system. It would take days for us to negotiate, and by then the aliens will be on top of us!" Admiral Ora'Loss vas Rayya cut Lea off before she could finish.

"Sensor readings from the colony! They have ships taking off!" A technician exclaimed, running into the room.

"How many?" Ora asked.

"Over a hundred and climbing. They're transports, with some cruisers and frigates mixed in. Looks like they're evacuating the colony!" The technician replied, looking down at his omni-tool.

"They're evacuating? They're not even going to try and fight?" Admiral Ille'Rade vas Tonbay asked.

"No. Syglar isn't that big of a colony, and judging by how many ships just took off, it looks like they're pulling everyone out!"

"I see. So the rumors are true. It looks like the Turians are indeed in full retreat." Admiral Zerrek'Kel vas Registry Error mused.

"So they're not even trying to fight back any more?" Ora asked.

"From what my sources are telling me, they are massing everything they have at Palaven. They've realized that trying to defend every world they have one at a time only means they lose their forces piece by piece. Thus, they are trying to create a scenario where the enemy is forced into a single, decisive battle against everything they have. Palaven will be where that battle takes place." Zerrek replied. Before anyone could respond, the sensor tech gasped as his omni-tool blared a warning.

"Keelah... New sensor readings from the surface! Multiple flashes! The Turians just nuked their own colony! Syglar station just went up as well!" He exclaimed, as every omni-tool in the room began blaring an automated notification that there was a disaster scenario in progress nearby and that Council Law required every able ship to provide immediate relief. Evidently, the Turians hadn't logged the station as abandoned before they blew it up.

"Transports just micro-jumped to the relay. They're in a hurry..." The tech murmured, still numb from watching multiple cities go up in nuclear fire.

"That means that whatever is coming, the Turians think it's coming soon!"

"Hail them again! Request permission to leave the system once their evacuees are safe!" Lea ordered.

"Will do..." The communications officer replied, and promptly opened a channel.

" _Rayya_ to _Aegis of Trebia,_ representing the Quarian Admiralty Board and Migrant Fleet. We are requesting permission to evacuate the system after all Turian transports have made it to safety. Please respond, over!" The room was silent as the admirals awaited the response. Finally, it came.

" _Aegis of Trebia_ to _Rayya,_ negative on the evacuation. The enemy is expected to arrive within one Citadel standard day, and we have orders to begin mining both sides of the relay before they arrive. It will take days for the migrant fleet to make the jump, and while you are doing so we cannot place mines near the relay. Hold your position until the minefield is in place, then we will send you the IFF codes required to travel through the field and make the jump. Until then, maintain your current distance from the relay. Any attempted approach will be deemed an act of hostility, and we will respond accordingly." The voice of the Turian General was calm.

"Please, if not our entire fleet, at least let the liveships through! The survival of my people hangs in the balance!" The communications officer pleaded.

"Negative. All your ships are to hold position until proper codes are transmitted." With those words, the communications channel was cut. The room was silent for a while, before Ora sighed.

"Do we attack? If we rush them now, we will take some casualties but we will be able to overwhelm them and get through." He stated.

"And then what? We'll be on the other side of the relay, staring down another fleet like that, and then we'll have to go through the rest of Citadel space to reach the safety of the Terminus. They won't take kindly to that." Lea replied.

"Plus, knowing the Turians, they will go for the Liveships first. One hit from that dreadnought is enough to take one down. Lose one liveship, and our entire race is doomed. No, if we attack now, we are dead." Ille added.

"But what do we do? I refuse to sit here, awaiting extinction when there is an alternative!" Ora shouted.

"There is an alternative. We could surrender." Zerrek said, his voice betraying little emotion.

"Surrender? Are you crazy? Who knows what those monsters would do to us if we surrender to them!" Ora exclaimed.

"As opposed to what they would do to us if we fought them? We have three choices here. Fight the Turians, which will likely result in extinction, fight the aliens, which will definitely result in extinction, or surrender to them and to an uncertain future. Of these choices, only one has any future for the Quarian race." Zerrek replied.

"What if they don't accept our surrender? What then?" Lea asked.

"Then we go down fighting. The patrol fleet will cover the liveships and civilian fleet on their path to the relay, while our heavy fleet engages the enemy." Admiral Hela'Osera vas Narak replied.

"What about the minefield?" Ora asked.

"My ships will clear a path. One way or the other." Hela replied, her voice firm.

"Turian transports are away. Mines are being placed as we speak." The sensors officer reported.

"Very well then. Unless anyone has any objections, our plan is as follows. As soon as the aliens enter the system, we transmit a message of surrender. If it is accepted, we proceed as necessary. Otherwise, our heavy fleet will fight a stalling battle while our Civillian and Patrol fleets move to the relay. The patrol fleet will clear the mines so that our liveships and whatever other vessels we can spare may escape." Ora stated. When no objections came, he nodded and reached into his suit pocket to pull out a small flask.

"My predecessor handed this to me, and told me to drink it when the time was right. I can think of no better time than this." He said, placing the flask of Migrant Fleet Moonshine on the table before reaching into a separate pocket and pulling out several wrapped sterile induction ports.

"I agree." Hela replied as she took one, the rest of the admirals mimicking her actions.

"To a future for the Quarians. One way or another, we will survive." Ora toasted, raising the flask and taking a sip before passing it on to Lia. The bottle made its way around the table, with Zerrek being the one to empty it.

"Thank you for that, Ora. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the _Narak_. I need to prepare the Patrol Fleet for combat." Hela spoke first.

"Yes. I will give the orders to the Heavy Fleet as well. I will remain here on the _Rayya,_ where I can handle the surrender."

"I must return to the _Registry Error._ Special Projects needs to be put in order, and I must decide which ships are to be prioritized in the evacuation." Zerrek said.

One by one, the admirals returned to their respective ships, and the wait began.

Three hours after the discussion had ended, the Turian fleet abruptly began to leave, and Ora braced himself. For a moment, he considered another bottle of moonshine, but ultimately thought against it.

"The last of the Turians just went through the relay... They couldn't have finished the minefield in that time though, so something must have spooked them..." The sensors officer reported.

"There is only one thing that could have done that. Prepare the communications array and signal the other flagships. Tell them we're about to have company." Ora ordered, and the officer obeyed.

"Start transmitting the surrender signal immediately. The inbound relay is about two light hours away, so they will be able to see us long before we see them. We need to hail them before they decide we're hostile and open fire!"

"Understood... Ahem! Attention alien craft, this is the Quarian Liveship _Rayya,_ transmitting on behalf of the Quarian people. We surrender. I repeat, the Quarian Migrant Fleet surrenders immediately." The officer shook his head as he finished, before setting the message to repeat on all frequencies in every major Citadel language. Now, they just had to wait for a reply.

* * *

"Sir, we're picking up a signal being transmitted on multiple frequencies from the alien armada... It seems to be aimed at us." The communications officer of the _XCS Tranquilitas_ reported.

"That's strange. Run it through our translator, it might be something useful. If not, prep the ships for micro-jump and order them to target the alien battleships first." Junior Rear Admiral Will McTavish ordered, and the officer obeyed. The hologram of the ship's Assistant, D291-90191A, better known as Dee, shimmered into being a moment later. It was silent for a few minutes before it finally made its report.

"Much of the message is untranslateable, but analysis shows that this is due to it being repeated in multiple different languages, of which our reverse-engineered program only recognizes one. Playing translated portion to you now, leaving proper nouns as they were."

"Attention alien vessel, this is the _Quarii_ generation-ship _Rayya,_ transmitting on behalf of all _Quarii_ citizens. We surrender. Repeating: The _Quarii_ migrant fleet surrenders immediately."

"What the hell? They're surrendering?" Will couldn't help but exclaim.

"Are you sure it's not a translation error?" His XO asked.

"I am running the latest translation programs derived directly from captured alien translation devices. If there is any translation error, it would have to have originated in the captured devices." The Assistant replied.

"But... Aliens don't surrender! It's practically a fucking law of nature!" Will shouted.

"Evidently these ones are different." The Assistant replied.

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do? They didn't teach us stuff like this back in the academy!" The XO demanded.

"Well... I guess we will just have to accept the surrender. Dee, prepare a message to send back to them. We will accept their surrender, and will now perform a micro-FTL jump into visual range. Once there, we will launch a shuttle to pick up their dignitaries to discuss the terms of surrender. Inform them that any hostile action on their part will be met with lethal force. Oh, and contact Drescher. Inform her of our current circumstances."

"Understood, sir... Messages transmitted."

"Good. Now to wait for a response. Play it back once you receive it."

"Yes sir."

The response came a minute later.

"Thank you. Please direct your shuttle to the _Rayya._ Once we are certain of its dimensions, we will direct it to an appropriately sized hangar. Our representatives will convene there for pickup as soon as possible."

Will smiled as he heard the message. Then, he gave his next order.

"Helm, commence micro-jump. Get us into visual range, but make sure are too far for their guns to accurately hit us."

"Roger, jumping." The ship shuddered slightly as it went in and out of FTL, exiting exactly half of a light second away from the alien fleet. The other two ships in the scouting fleet exited on either side of the _Mare Tranquilitas_ in perfect formation.

"Excellent work. Dee, prepare another message..."

* * *

Ora frowned beneath his mask as the latest message from the aliens, or rather the Humans, came through.

"The shuttle is launching now. It will circle the _Rayya_ once before coming alongside. There is room onboard for six representatives. No weapons are permitted, and attempting to board while armed will be considered an act of perfidy."

"Paranoid little bosh'tets, aren't they?" The communications officer commented.

"Still, we have to comply. We are surrendering, after all. Prepare a reply, telling them that we will be launching several of our own shuttles shortly with our representatives onboard, which will dock with the _Rayya._ I don't want a battle to break out because they mistook our admiralty's transports for interceptors." Ora ordered in response.

"Understood." The officer replied, before doing just that. The Human response came in a minute later.

" _Rayya,_ be advised that we will be tracking all shuttle launches. If any one of them acts outside of their stated mission parameters, we will assume it to be a hostile act." Ora gritted his teeth at that. It was one thing to be cautious, but this? These Humans were downright paranoid!

"Tell them that we understand, and are not planning to commit any hostile actions at this time." He ordered, just as the sensors officer contacted him.

"Alien shuttle launch detected. It's coming in fast, but we can just about get a read on it. It's pretty big, but it should fit in a Class 2 hangar with some room to spare." The officer explained.

"Thank you. I'll make it a Class 1, just in case." Ora replied, his omni-tool going dark a moment later.

"Get into contact with traffic control. Tell them to direct the Human shuttle to the port-side Class 1 hangar bay. I believe that one has some open space."

"Will do."

As luck would have it, the rest of the admiralty board reached the _Rayya_ just as the Human shuttle was passing the Heavy Fleet, and Ora met them in the hangar bay.

"Everyone ready?" He asked as Zerrek approached, the Special Projects' head being the last admiral to arrive.

"I hope you know what you are doing. This could easily end in disaster." Lea warned.

"One way or another, I will ensure that the Quarian people have a future. Now let's go, the Humans are due to arrive any minute now." Ora replied, before leading the rest of the admirals to the designated hangar. A group of Migrant Fleet Marines greeted him as he entered.

"Sir, we stand ready. Give the order, and I will send my best to ensure your safe return." Their commander greeted him.

"No, that will not be necessary. In fact, I want this hangar bay clear of all marines immediately. These aliens are extremely paranoid, and I don't want to take any chances." Ora replied, pointing towards the nearest exit.

"I... Yes sir." The marine commander saluted, before barking an order to the rest of his troops and turning to leave the hangar. They had scarcely left when an alarm sounded, signalling that there was a craft on approach.

Against the black of space the Human shuttle was only visible via its running lights, which blinked green and red as the craft approached. As it came closer, however, he was able to start making out the details of the black-painted vessel. It was a boxy design, with two short, stubby wings protruding from the upper portion of its fuselage. Two bright lights in the wing roots denoted the presence of thrusters, which glowed bright blue as they slowed the craft down until it was hovering in place within the hangar. Then the shuttle began to rotate, pivoting in place and neatly avoiding the other Quarian shuttlecraft that had filled the hangar as it oriented itself to face the exit. Once the maneuver was completed, it finally began to descend, landing softly on a pair of skids that extended from its underbelly.

As the light of its engines died, the ship's rear ramp began to descend, and Ora got his first sight of the aliens that had laid waste to the greatest military power in Citadel space.

Of course, since they wore full-body armored suits, he wasn't able to see much. The general shape of their body resembled that of the Asari and Batarians, but aside from that their actual features were completely hidden.

Once the ramp dropped, two blue-clad Human soldiers moved out, kneeling at the end of the ramp while keeping their weapons trained on the Admiralty Board. One of them nodded a moment later, and a white-armored Human, who seemed to be the leader of the group, walked out next, two more blue-armored soldiers flanking him. One of his hands was extended, and a vaguely bipedal white hologram shimmered in its palm. Oro eyed it warily, but given how none of the Admirals carried weapons he knew there was little he could do even if it turned out to be more than a simple VI.

The Human delegation came to a stop three steps in front of their Quarian opposite numbers. For a few moments, nobody spoke, before the Human leader broke the silence. The VI in its hand evidently acted as the translator, and repeated the message in perfect Palavian.

"Salutations. I am Dania Ihab, and I will accompany you to the negotiation table. I will remind you now to surrender any weapons you may be carrying, as keeping them onboard the shuttle will be considered an act of perfidy." For a moment, nobody moved, before Zerrek sighed and reached into a suit pocket, removing an ornate pistol and offering it to the Human grip first. The rest of the admirals followed suit, handing over their personal holdout pistols with the exception of Ora, who had disarmed himself beforehand. When the others looked at him expectantly, he turned out the suit pocket, showing that it was empty.

Dania nodded and barked an order at one of the soldiers behind her, who promptly confiscated the weapons.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Please board the shuttle now." At that, she stood aside and gestured towards the dark interior of the Human shuttle. Ora hesitated for a moment, steeling himself before he took the first step towards the alien craft. He held his head high as he walked, trying to appear as dignified as possible in light of the current circumstances. The rest of the Admiralty Board followed behind him, with the Human soldiers bringing up the rear.

The seats inside the shuttle were little more than fabric stretched over a metal skeleton, clearly designed with function first in mind. As he sat down, he got the impression that the Humans weren't very used to hosting diplomats. That impression was reinforced by the fact that two of the alien soldiers kept their guns trained on him the entire time. Ora did his best to ignore them, telling himself that he had nothing to fear so long as he remained peaceful.

The ramp was raised as soon as the last Human boarded, and the shuttle began to move a few seconds later. One thing that struck Ora was how silent the craft was. Within the Migrant Fleet one had to constantly be listening, because at any moment one could hear the splutter of a dying air filter, the creak of hull plating in need of reinforcement, or worst of all, the dreaded hiss of air escaping into the void of space. Indeed, most of the machinery in the Migrant Fleet had its soundproofing removed so that it would be easier to hear the ones in need of maintenance. By comparison, the Human shuttle was almost devoid of sound, and he had to restrain himself from inspecting the various pieces of exposed machinery to figure out what was wrong.

The porthole-style window was small but he was nonetheless able to see the alien fleet as the shuttle approached. A mere three ships, only one of which was above frigate weight, spaced evenly apart in a neat wedge, comprised the entirety of the force he had surrendered to. Part of him was rather embarrassed, as that meant he had sent his desperate signal to a tiny scouting flotilla as opposed to the grand armada he had been expecting at first, but the other part was glad. If things came to blows, the Migrant Fleet would be able to escape.

The shuttle moved fast, but it had to circle around the alien cruiser as it decelerated, allowing him to observe the alien ship. Its shape reminded him of a dagger, with four sides coming together at a point, from which the tip of a spinal cannon protruded. The sloping sides were bristling with smaller guns as well, placed in superfiring arrangements to allow the ship to focus all its firepower forward. Several of the smaller turrets tracked the shuttle as it came in, swiveling around until the shuttle left their field of fire.

The rear of the Human ship was decidedly different from the front. Where the front was covered in weapons and thick armor plate, the rear was almost exclusively devoted to engines, with four large drives of some sort being clearly visible. The only exception was the protruding spike of metal, which almost looked like a scaled-down version of the ship's prow. Several turrets were placed throughout its length, ensuring that the rear of the ship had some form of defensive armament, while a glowing blue outline revealed the hangar bay at its base. Two more shuttles were contained within, identical to the one that he was currently on.

Once again, the shuttle pivoted as it landed, turning a full half-circle before it touched down. The ramp dropped a few seconds later, revealing a line of blue-armored Human soldiers, their guns aimed at the shuttle's occupants.

"Come on out with your hands in the air." Dania ordered, and Ora complied, leading the rest of the admirals out into the harsh white lighting of the Human ship. The line of Human soldiers parted as they approached, revealing a trio of white-suited officers. One of them spoke up, and the VI in Dania's hand translated.

"You are to follow him. Keep your hands raised." It ordered, and Ora complied, allowing the alien officer to lead him deeper into the ship. With every step, he reminded himself that this humiliation was necessary for the Quarians to survive.

Finally, they reached a conference room of some sort. The Human officers sat down at one end of the table, gesturing for the Quarians to have a seat at the other. With nearly twenty guards surrounding them, they had little choice but to obey. As they sat down, the same VI shimmered into being in the center of the table.

"Thank you for your cooperation. You may lower your hands." Ora did just that, clasping them on top of the table.

"Thank you for accepting our surrender." He replied. The Humans looked at him blankly, before the VI spoke up.

"Please speak in Palavian. We do not currently possess functional translation programs for your language." Ora nodded, and activated his omni-tool. As soon as it began to glow, every single gun in the room zeroed in on him, and only the Human officer's raised hand saved his life.

"Carry on." It ordered, and Ora complied, quickly assuming manual control of his translator and setting it to Palavian.

"Thank you." He replied, testing the translator. When the Human gestured to continue, he went on speaking.

"Once again, thank you for accepting our surrender. I only ask that my people be treated fairly under your leadership." He wanted to say more, but for some reason no more words came. That was, after all, what he was here for. He was in no position to dictate terms, and since the Quarian surrender was unconditional, it was up to the Humans to decide what to do with them.

"Unfortunately, I do not have the authority to dictate terms to your species. My role in your surrender will be to merely secure your further cooperation and ensure that you will not commit any hostile actions." The Human finally replied, and Ora's heart sank.

"I... I see. Very well. You have our assurance that we will not abuse your trust. The Quarian people have no desire for a war, and we have no diplomatic ties that will require us to fight against you." He replied.

"That is good to hear. Hopefully, once we reach your worlds, we will not have any trouble with them." That caused the Quarian delegation to exchange glances. Lea even made to speak before Ora beat her to the punch.

"We have no planets. The fleet we have just surrendered to you contains all that remains of our species." He immediately regretted those words, as the Human delegation immediately erupted into animated conversation.

"You idiot! Now they know just how easily they can kill us off!" Hela hissed.

"If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't be bothering with a surrender farce. Still, that was not a good idea. Now that they know they hold our entire race in their hands, they can force us to agree to much harsher terms." Zerrek commented.

Just then, another Human entered the room, attracting the attention of the Human leader. Satisfied, it gave a report, to which the Human leader nodded before turning back to the Quarians.

"I have my orders. The bulk of our fleet will be entering the system shortly. Once they arrive, we are to escort you to our world of Shanxi. Your fleet will wait there until high command decides what to do with you. To aid in that decision, we will require your race to grant us unrestricted access to its data libraries. However, for now we will require you to send a message to the rest of your people. We will be forming up at the head of your fleet, and your helmsmen are to follow us. Understood?"

"Very well... May we have access to your communications systems in order to send the message?" At that, the Human leader shook his head.

"Negative, our communications systems are not compatible with yours. All our transmissions to you were routed through our electronic warfare suite. Speak your messages to the ship's Assistant, and it will convert and transmit them. For now, order your fleet to follow us on our approach to the mass relay. I want them ready to jump by the time our main fleet is finished coming through. Thank you for your cooperation." With those parting words, the Human left the room, leaving the Quarians alone in a room filled with armed guards.

Once the door closed, Ora breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good. At the very least, nobody had died yet. Of course, he still had work to do, and so he prepared his message to the Migrant Fleet, and in doing so ended an era of Quarian history.

* * *

"What do you mean, the Migrant Fleet's gone dark?" Barakis exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that he was still in his sleepwear as he leaped out of bed.

"I'm not quite sure yet. All I know is that the 314s hit Syglar earlier than expected, and the Migrant Fleet was caught before it could evacuate." Councilor Verlin's hologram replied.

"Syglar fell?" Barakis exclaimed.

"Yes. Its inhabitants managed to escape to Quadim, where they will be assisting in the evacuation of that world. Unfortunately, there were also Quarian pilgrims on Quadim, and when they heard the news they were quick to spread it. About an hour ago, a pair of Quarian gunmen got arrested for attempting to shoot up the Presidium, and judging by the preliminary reports I've been getting they're not the only ones. The remaining Quarians are up in arms all over the galaxy, and they're calling for blood." Verlin replied.

"Whose blood?" Barakis asked.

"Yours. They claim that your peoples' forces in the Syglar system prevented the Migrant Fleet from evacuating, and you just so happen to be the face of your people to the rest of the galaxy. I'd be careful going out in public if I were you, especially to areas that Quarians frequent." Verlin warned.

"I see. Thank you, Verlin. I don't know what I would be doing without your support."

"I'd suspect you would be butting heads with Tevos, and I wouldn't be there to break the tie in your favor." Barakis laughed at that.

"Anyway, I would speak with the Volus soon. At the rate that the 314s are advancing, they will reach Irune soon." Just like that, any humor present was sucked out of the room.

"I know. I already have a meeting scheduled with them later today. I don't think anything will come of it though... The Volus won't abandon Irune, and with the decisive battle plan in place we cannot afford to send them significant military aid." Verlin sighed at that.

"Barakis... Do you really think that you can stop the aliens at Palaven?" She asked.

"I have to. Damn near every able body is being concentrated there, armed and ready. All fleets not involved with evacuation efforts are being rushed there, and our newest tech is just coming off the assembly line. Just two days ago, the first cruiser armed with an atomic main gun was launched, and two more are expected to launch later this week. Palaven has always been a fortress, Verlin, and we've been busy fortifying it further with the latest technology. Palaven will not fall." He replied.

"But what if it does? What will you do then? You must have some contingency in place! If Palaven falls, you can always take it back, but if your race dies there is no bringing the Turian people back! The Quarians are gone, Barakis, and soon the Turians may share their fate! If you fall, my people will be next! Already, I am getting reports of alien scouting fleets raiding our own border patrols. It is only a matter of time before they hit a Salarian colony... My superiors are already making plans, but so far all of them rely on your race's survival. Please, Barakis. If your people fall, we are left with only the Asari to fall back on." Verlin pleaded.

"I see... Very well. I will contact my Primarch as soon as possible. Thank you, Verlin." He replied.

"Thank you as well, Barakis. Stay safe, and keep your people safe as well." She answered, before cutting the channel.

Barakis lay back down on his bed once the hologram faded, his eyesight adjusting back to the darkness. He honestly hadn't cared much for the Quarians. He always dealt with them fairly on the rare occasions that they came before the Council, and his people had always maintained at least an amicable relationship with the Migrant Fleet due to the fact that they effectively held a monopoly on Dextro-amino foodstuffs, but now? Now they were effectively extinct for all he knew, and the few doomed survivors hated him for it. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way, that the Quarians would direct their hatred at his people. After all, the aliens that did the deed were too powerful to strike back at, but Turians? They were easier targets.

Needless to say, he couldn't fall back asleep after that conversation, and so he began his morning scan of the news. Of course, CNN was already covering the fall of Syglar and speculating on the fate of the Migrant Fleet. It was the same on every other news channel. The likely extinction of an entire species was not something to be ignored, even if that same species had spent the past few centuries as personae non grata within Citadel Space for their part in releasing the Geth. He wondered what the enigmatic AI race was thinking now that their creators were dead. Were they satisfied that their creators were dead? Angry that they couldn't finish the job themselves? Maybe they were even fearful that they were next in line!

Barakis ended that train of thought before it could go any further. There was no sense in speculating on the Geth when the real problem was about to hit Quadim. That colony was large enough that they couldn't get everyone off. As such, while the fleets around it would retreat, the citizens left behind would fight to the death. Soon enough, Quadim would be another once-green world scarred by orbital bombardment and covered in ruins and corpses. Would Palaven's fate be similar? Verlin's words echoing through his head, he realized that yes, that was a likely outcome.

He began to pace, thinking of possible solutions, before sighing in defeat. He was no strategist, but there were others on Palaven who were. With that in mind, he quickly dressed himself and walked into the communications room. As the door slid shut, he activated his personal QEC, which served as a hot line to Palaven, and prepared to speak to his primarch with the intention of saving his people.

* * *

 **A/N: It is finally done! I have been planning the Quarian surrender for a while, and I am glad to finally bring it into the fic for good. It's definitely not the standard Quarian contact that we have all come to expect from Mass Effect fics, am I right?**

 **This chapter was rather light on the action, and instead focused on diplomacy and setting up future events, such as the battles of Irune and Palaven and the future of the Quarian and Turian races. I would elaborate on these topics, but that would be spoiling it!**

 **I would also like to point out that this story has passed the 1000 favorites mark, which to me is a sign that my writing is good enough that people are enjoying it in such large numbers! I would also like to thank my reviewers for not simply praising my work, but also discussing it with me, giving the the chance to refine my ideas and ensure that the bad stuff gets left out of the story proper.**

 **On a completely different note, War of the Chosen is now out, and I am proud to say that I have beaten it on Commander difficulty. While I am not in the business of reviewing games, I will say that I liked what War of the Chosen was trying to do, but I can't help but feel slightly disappointed at the end result. The biggest problem I have with the modern XCOM series is endgame power creep, and WotC only exacerbated that problem by adding in new, more powerful weapons and artifacts while simultaneously not changing much of the endgame content. After a certain point, the game simply became too easy, and I breezed through the final few months with no issues whatsoever. I also feel like WotC failed to properly set up diplomacy between the three factions. The Lost and Abandoned mission was amazing, but there wasn't any real follow up to it. Still, I would recommend the DLC to you all, as it does add a significant amount to the game, and I am very much looking forward to what the Long War team could potentially do with it!**

 **As many of you have probably noticed, this fic now also has a cover image, courtesy of War of the Chosen's propaganda poster maker. I may redo it in the near future, however, now that my favorite cosmetic mods have been updated.**

 **In addition, I would also like to encourage anyone interested to check out Phoenix Point, which is a game very much similar to XCOM that is currently being developed by a team headed by the developer of the original X-COM UFO Defense, Julian Gollop. While it is not yet released, and indeed won't be available to the public until Q4 of 2018 according to the developers, it definitely looks like Mr. Gollop has not lost his touch, and indeed Phoenix Point is shaping up to be a potentially incredible product.**

 **As always, I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter. If you see any glaring inconsistencies or errors, please notify me and I will do my best to fix them.**


	10. Chapter 8: Three Occupations

**A/N: This is it, the conclusion of the Quarian Surrender, as well as several other scenes to bridge the gap to Palaven.**

* * *

 _"Millions dead, and for what? The Volus certainly didn't save themselves with what they did. If anything, their act made the eventual fate of their species worse. Perhaps, had they remained loyal and stood against Humanity, the Volus might still be a common sight in this galaxy."_ \- Excerpt from 'Aftermath: An Analysis of the Effects of the Great War' by Professor Lahiral Sharik

 **Chapter 8: What Comes Next**

The Volus embassy was unique on the Citadel in that it was split into two sections, which were distinguished by their atmospheres. The larger of the two was for Volus only, a fact enforced by the methane-nitrogen mixture that made up its atmosphere. Without a breather suit, any non-Volus in this section would quickly suffocate. The smaller section was where the Volus met with other races, and that was where Councilor Barakis was just finishing up his latest daily meeting with the representatives of Irune. As was the usual for the more recent of these meetings, neither side gave ground, and both parties left the discussion with a deep feeling of dissatisfaction.

As soon as the door slid shut behind the Turian councilor, the two Volus in the room retreated to their section of the embassy. Once the airlock hissed shut behind them and the atmosphere indicator pinged they removed their suits and walked into the main room, now wearing only their business clothes.

"That was our last chance. You heard what the higher-ups told us yesterday." Dora Pol, personal secretary to the Volus ambassador, spoke first.

"I know full well what the Protectorate Council wants. Tell them what just happened, and that the embassy awaits further orders. Our ship is ready, correct?" Nimu Sorek, the actual ambassador, replied.

"Understood, sir. Should I tell the crew to prepare for departure?" Dora asked.

"Not just yet. Depending on what's been going on in the planning room, we might still be needed on the Citadel." Nimu answered.

"Understood-" Dora replied, but before he could actually carry out his orders a series of muted gunshots resounded through the room. Both Volus dove to the floor, only to stand up a moment later, realizing that the gunfire was coming from outside.

"Kerlon, what the hell is going on out there?" Nimu shouted into his omni-tool as more gunfire sounded out.

"Some crazy suit-rat just tried to shoot the Turian councilor! C-Sec already got him!" The security officer replied.

"What about the councilor?" Nimu asked.

"As far as I can see, he is alright... Wait, he's limping, and I hear sirens. The Quarian must have gotten him in the leg as he dove for cover." Kerlon replied.

"Keep me posted on the situation then. Dora, send the message to Irune. The Protectorate Council needs to know what happened, the sooner the better."

"Understood." Dora replied, before hurrying off.

Soon enough, the area in front of the Volus embassy was crawling with C-Sec and reporters, along with what appeared to be a Turian SpecTRe judging by his customized armor and the way he commanded the other C-Sec officers despite not wearing their uniform. Fortunately, the Council agent did not attempt to enter the Volus embassy, and was content to just interview the security staff about what had transpired. A few hours later, the crime scene had been cordoned off, and life went back to normal inside the embassy.

The response from Irune came that evening, and Nimu's eyes widened as he read through the message on his Omni-tool.

"Shit, they're really going to go through with it." He cursed, before calling Dora up to his office.

"What are our orders?" The secretary's voice was grim. Evidently he had also seen the message, although only Nimu understood everything that was within it.

"Send a message to the Turians demanding that they immediately evacuate their colonies of Castig and Arrenia. Tell them not to bother with placing minefields, just have them get their people out within two days. Operation Severance begins in exactly two Citadel standard days, and anyone present in either of those systems when the operation commences will not be making it out alive." Dora took a step back at those words.

"U-Understood!" Without even bothering to leave the room, the secretary called up his omni-tool and spoke rapidly. As soon as the Turian on the other end agreed to pass the message along, the call was terminated.

"What now?" Dora asked.

"Alert the embassy staff and tell our men at the docks to prepare our ship for departure. We are leaving the Citadel. We should just be able to make it to Irune within the allotted time frame." Nimu replied, before standing up and beginning the arduous process of gathering up documents and computers.

An hour later, a quartet of armored skycars lifted up from the roof of the Volus embassy, making for the docks at top speed while ignoring all orders to slow down coming from C-Sec stations. They entered restricted dock airspace shortly afterwards, landing directly outside of the Volus consular transport's berth.

"Hurry up and get everything onto the ship! We cannot afford to waste any time!" Nimu ordered, hefting a box of documents out of his car's trunk and carrying them over to the ship. Several crewmen rushed out to do the same, quickly grabbing whatever they could carry and hauling it onboard. The entire procedure was over in a matter of minutes, and less than three hours after the fateful message was received, the entire Volus embassy staff left the Citadel.

As they approached the Citadel relay, Dora asked the question that had been on everyone's mind.

"Sir, what is Operation Severance?" For a few moments, Nimu did not reply.

Finally, he removed his suit's helmet and gave his reply.

"We Volus have one of the longest histories of any Citadel race. Only the Asari and Salarians have been here longer than us, after all. This means that we have kept accurate first-hand records of events that many younger races know of only from history books. That includes the Rachni Wars." Nimu paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"Forty standard years before the Krogan contact, during one of the most devastating offensives by the Rachni, which converged on an area known as the Dwarf Cluster. Don't bother looking for it on the starmap, it has been stricken from all official records after what happened there." Now that drew Dora's curiosity, and he asked the obvious question.

"What happened?"

"The Council Fleet, or rather, what was left of it after the disastrous Battle of Korlus, had retreated to Thessia to lick its wounds, leaving the path to the Citadel wide open. However, some Salarians came up with a bright idea to save the Council. From what they knew, the Rachni were all converging on the Dwarf Cluster for a massive push towards the Citadel. The Salarians then proposed that the mass relay within the Dwarf Cluster be destroyed. Do you understand so far?" Dora had always been quick on the uptake, and the look of horror on his face was enough to show that he knew where the impromptu history lesson was headed.

"The Salarians believed that destroying the relay with a relativistic kill vehicle would trap the Rachni fleets in the system. Given how bad their conventional FTL was, the Rachni would not be able to make it out, while our superior FTL would have been able to just barely make the slow journey back to friendly space. The team that carried out the mission contained a Volus engineer, who was charged with ensuring that the RKV was properly directed at the relay. That is how our race was able to find out what happened next."

"What happens when you destroy a relay?" Dora asked, his voice hesitant.

"Simply put, a supernova-sized explosion. Every single Rachni in the system was wiped out, along with the strike team. The explosion traveled at light-speed, and the team had barely reported on the success of the mission before contact was lost." Nimu replied.

"That's..." Dora trailed off, just as the consular transport reached the Citadel relay made the first jump of its journey.

"Terrifying. It's why the Council promptly covered up every aspect of the mission in order to prevent any unsavory groups from getting any ideas. The Ministry of History and Culture just unsealed the documents thousands of years after they had last been accessed, and I think you can probably guess what happened next." Nimu finished.

"We... We're going to sever Irune from the mass relay network?" Dora exclaimed.

"Yes. The Aethon relay links to two other systems, and we are going to destroy them. The Protectorate Council hopes that by doing so, we will be able to completely cut off mass relay access to the Aethon Cluster and thus prevent the invaders from reaching our homeworld."

"What about the Turians in those systems?" Dora asked.

"We are giving them advance warning, and will be helping with evacuations up until the deadline approaches." Nimu answered.

"But there are millions of people on those worlds! It would take weeks to get them all out!" Dora exclaimed.

"We don't have weeks! News from the front indicates that the invaders will be within one relay of Irune in as little as three days! The Turians are not willing to divert their fleets to defend our homeworld, so we must resort to the alternative. There will be millions more Turians, but if the invaders reach Irune, the Volus will follow the Quarians into extinction!" Nimu responded. Before Dora could say anything to that, Nimu stalked out of the room.

* * *

Less than half a day remained on the clock when the consular transport entered the Castig system. As soon as the ship finished relay transit, every single receiver onboard began blaring as they picked up a priority emergency transmission. Nimu's Omni-Tool glowed as it began to automatically play the message.

"... Destruction of the system. Only immediate evacuation will ensure your survival. The operation will not be delayed. Again, All residents of this system are to evacuate immediately. This message will now repeat itself. Attention all residents of the Castig System! In exactly five Citadel Standard Hours, the Volus Protectorate Defense Fleet will be conducting an operation that will result in the destruction of the system. Only immediate evacuation..." The message continued to loop as the consular ship began to make its way over to the outbound relay.

Nimu promptly made his way to the bridge, wincing from the combined volume of every electronic device capable of receiving the signal.

"How much longer until we jump?" He asked the captain.

"Two hours. There's a pileup at the relay." Came the response. Nimu glanced at the system map in the center of the room, and indeed there were what appeared to be several hundred ships clustered around the outbound relay, with more on the way. Keeping their distance from the mess were three Volus cruisers, which were formed up around a smaller ship, likely the RKV. For a while Nimu considered hailing them, but ultimately decided against it. He would be cutting it close, but there was still time.

As it turned out, the consular transport made it through the relay an hour behind schedule. Nimu breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar layout of the Aru system appeared on sensors.

"Captain, take us to Irune. Our journey is over." He ordered, before leaving the bridge.

* * *

Two Citadel Standard Hours later, the three Volus cruisers broke formation and made a run for the relay. Behind them, a thirty-minute countdown began to tick onboard the relativistic kill vehicle as it oriented itself to face the mass relay. Smaller transports and cargo ships scrambled to get out of their way, while those who did not were fired on without hesitation. With five minutes on the clock, the cruisers made the jump to Irune.

Five minutes later, the RKV began to accelerate. Two weeks ago, it had been an ordinary freighter, but now the four thousand ton ship was the most potent weapon of mass destruction in the Citadel arsenal. Its FTL drive had been removed and replaced with a new device designed to accelerate the ship to near-lightspeed. Had there been any organic crew onboard, they would have died instantly, but as it stood there was only a single VI onboard.

By the time the RKV collided with the Castig relay, it was moving at half the speed of light. The impact carried with it the energy equivalent of more than eleven trillion tons of TNT, and even the enormous mass relay could not withstand such force. As the immense and ancient construct shattered, every nearby starship was vaporized almost instantly. The hundreds of thousands of Turians still on Castig survived for another twenty minutes before the shockwave crossed the small star system and reached the planet. Their deaths were instantaneous.

An identical event repeated itself in the Arrenia system, with similar results. As the two relays died, the Aethon relay in the Volus home system flickered and went dormant. Irune was now effectively cut off from the relay network. Operation Severance had succeeded.

* * *

Admiral Ora'Loss was, for lack of a better word, terrified. It had been weeks since the Quarian surrender, the time being mostly spent making the journey into Human space. The fleet had then spent several days in orbit of the Human colony of Shanxi under the guns of alien warships, before the aliens finally decided that it was time to dictate terms.

Of course, the Humans had then announced that the meeting would take place on their homeworld, which meant that the Admiralty Board had to leave the fleet.

Now, several days later, the transport carrying them was finally in the Human home system and its inhabitants were putting on quite the show.

Just outside the window, Ora could see the immense form of a Human shipyard orbiting a bright red world. As they flew by an immense door opened up, revealing a completed starship within. As the frigate floated out of the slipway, Ora caught a glimpse of two more ships behind it in various stages of completion.

"There's hundreds of them..." Lia trailed off, and indeed Ora could see the much more distant silhouettes of other orbital installations.

"They're definitely trying to show off their industry." Zerrek muttered.

"And doing a good job of it as well. This is just one planet, in one system." Ille added.

A moment later, the view flashed black as the ship jumped to FTL. When it emerged a moment later, the planet below them was a vibrant blue. It was immediately obvious that this was the alien homeworld, and the sheer volume of orbital installations visible only reinforced that impression. Thousands of stations, orbiting in neat rows as far as the eye could see, guarded the space above the world. Starships moved between them, ranging in size from tiny frigates to immense cargo haulers that would have dwarfed even the three liveships of the Migrant Fleet.

The planet grew as the transport descended, passing by one of the orbital installations as it did so and giving the Quarian delegation a good look at its many weapons. A disturbingly large amount of those guns were pointed at them.

The re-entry phase began soon enough, the expected flames licking the ship's shield as it bled off speed. Once they cleared, the view from the window was that of an immense metropolis. As the transport continued to descend, Ora began to make out movement in the streets below, with large, ordered squares moving through the center of the city. Eventually, as the transport began to level out, he realized that those squares were made up of people, all marching in perfect formation. The transport made a single pass over the marching column, allowing the Quarians an ample view of the tanks and soldiers on display, before circling around and finally coming to a hover.

"Get ready to leave." Ora ordered, and the rest of the admirals complied, turning away from the window and heading towards the exit. The two Human guards posted at the door to the observation room followed them out. They arrived at the closed exit ramp just in time for the transport to touch down. The ramp hissed open a moment later, revealing two neat rows of Human soldiers, all of them wearing some sort of dress uniform. It then struck Ora that this was the first time he, or any other Quarian for that matter, had seen a Human without any sort of mask or helmet on. Whatever horrifying he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that of a pink Asari, with close-cropped hair just barely visible from beneath its hat.

"Our representatives are waiting for you inside. Please follow us." One of their two minders spoke, and Ora nodded.

"We understand. Thank you." As usual, his response was translated into Palavian, which was then turned into the Human langage by one of their VIs. The Human nodded a moment later, before marching out of the transport. Ora led the rest of the Admiralty Board after them, who in turn were followed by the second Human guard. The soldiers on either side of them stood motionless in their dark green uniforms, but Ora caught their eyes tracking them. Several of them subtly shifted their weapons, tightening their grip but remaining at rest. Every instinct Ora had was telling him to run for the entrance to the building, to get out from between the two rows of soldiers who clearly did not want him there. He suppressed those urges and kept walking at what he hoped looked like a calm, measured pace.

Two more fully armored guards greeted them at the entrance, along with five older looking Humans wearing more ornate uniforms. Three of them were wearing the same green as the soldiers outside, while another wore white and the last wore black.

"Welcome to Earth. I am Adjutant-Commander Teodore Vittore, representative of Humanity." The first of the green-clad humans introduced himself, extending a well-muscled hand as he did so. Having learned what the gesture meant from his time aboard Human ships, Ora grasped it in his own and shook the offered appendage.

"With me are Abram Turashvili, Director of Colonization and Fehime Aysel, Director of Military-Civilian Affairs. The three of us will be dictating the terms of surrender to you, as well as informing you of your new responsibilities as clients of Humanity." Teodore continued, introducing the other two green-uniformed humans, a male and female, as he did so. Ora shook their offered hands in turn.

"In addition, we will be joined by Doctor Ichiro Tanaka, Head of Xeno-Analysis and Senior Psychological Investigator Erwin Henning." The white and black-uniformed humans were introduced last. As he was introduced, Erwin extended his hand to each of the admirals in turn. As he shook it Ora swore that the human's eyes flickered a deep purple for a moment, and a feeling of mild unease settled over his mind. As he withdrew his hand, the black-uniformed man nodded to Teodore and muttered a few sentences in the human language. The rest of the humans seemed to find some measure of relief at those words, and while Ora didn't fully understand what had just transpired, he realized that they had just been somehow screened. Were the Humans similar to the Asari in more ways that just appearance? Had he just been mentally probed?

Before he could think any further, Teodore beckoned for them to follow and led them deeper into the skyscraper, finally arriving in a conference room. The Human representatives sat down at one end of the table, gesturing for the Quarians to sit down on the other. The Human considered his words for a few moments, before finally breaking the silence.

"In all of Humanity's interactions with alien life, you Quarians are only the second race we have encountered that is capable of surrender, and you were the first to do so without ever engaging us in combat. As you may imagine, this has resulted in significant amounts of debate in the upper echelons of our command structure. Suffice to say, your race has been given an opportunity like no other." Teodore paused, before gesturing at Abram. The taller man promptly produced a datapad and placed it on the table.

"The High Commander has decided that your race will serve as a test case for the possibility of integrating aliens into Human society. Provided that your race proves itself cooperative, the end result is that you Quarians will become full members of Humanity, with all the rights and responsibilities that entails." At that, Teodore slid the datapad across the table, and Ora picked it up a moment later. On it were two columns of text, one in the Human language and the other in Palavian.

"That datapad contains the full text of the Articles of Integration as they will apply to your race. You will have plenty of time to read it once this meeting is over. As the leaders of the Quarian race, do you acknowledge that your species is now bound under the terms outlined within that document?" The Admirals exchanged glances at that question, before Ora nodded.

"We do." He said.

"Do you acknowledge that, from this moment until the integration is over, your species is to be considered a client race of Humanity?" Once again, the Admirals voiced their assent.

"Good. Now, read Article 2, Section 2. You may take as much time as you need." Ora nodded, before navigating his way down to the indicated section. Lifting the datapad so that the rest of the admirals could see, he began to read.

It took him several minutes to finish section, which turned out to be a list of actions that would result in early termination of the integration program. This included military rebellion against Humanity, instigation of civil unrest within Human territory, performing acts of espionage against Humanity, and the sabotage of Human military infrastructure. The list closed on a short statement, and Ora barely suppressed his dismay when he read it.

'The aforementioned list is not all-inclusive, and any other act of a similar scale and nature on the part of the Quarian race will also be considered treason on a species-wide scale. The punishment for such an act is extermination of the Quarian race.'

"We have finished." Ora finally spoke once the rest of the Admirals indicated that they were done.

"Good. Now, do you agree to abide by all terms outlined within the Articles of Integration, with the full knowledge that violation of Humanity's trust in your species will result in the swift extermination of the Quarian race?" Teodore asked. For a few moments, the room was silent as the question hung in the air.

"We... We do." Ora finally replied. One by one, the rest of the admirals repeated those words. Upon hearing them, Teodore once again spoke to Erwin, who nodded. A moment later, the Human's eyes flickered violet once more. For a brief second Ora felt as if a spike had been driven into his skull, and judging by their exclamations his fellow admirals felt the same. The sensation quickly passed, replaced with a mild headache and a ringing clamor in his mind. He barely registered Erwin say something to the other humans, instead focusing more sitting himself back upright.

"Wha... What was that?" Zerrek exclaimed.

"Our method of confirming that you were telling the truth." Teodore replied, holding up a hand before any more questions could be asked.

"Now that we have confirmed your intent to comply with the terms we have set for your species, we will now tell you what will be happening to your species next." At that, he once again gestured at Abram.

"First and foremost, you are to be granted a single planet to be occupied by your species. After taking your species' biological requirements into account, three suitable worlds, of which you will pick one, have been found. Upon your return to the Migrant Fleet, you are to immediately begin procedures to relocate your species to the planet of your choice. Upon completion of the relocation process, the Migrant Fleet is to be turned over to Humanity for inspection and processing. Data on the three planets is located on the datapad in your possession, with all text translated into Palavian. Doctor Tanaka will give you a brief summary and you are free to peruse the data we have provided, but we expect an answer during this meeting." At those words, the pain in Ora's head suddenly didn't seem so important. Without any prompting, the datapad flickered, its contents changing to show three planets.

"A new planet? For us to colonize?" Lia whispered.

"There has to be a catch." Hela replied.

"It's a ploy to secure our loyalty. Threaten extinction, then give us a planet to keep us content." Zerrek stated.

Rather than participate in the argument taking place behind him, Ora chose instead to pick up the datapad.

"Do these planets possess the correct biosphere for our species? Our-" The white-suited human, Doctor Tanaka, held up a hand before he could continue.

"We have decrypted enough captured Turian data to know of your race's different amino acid chirality and the dangers standard Human-favorable environments pose to your health. The three planets I helped compile have the correct biospheres, which is part of the reason why they have yet to be colonized. Now, as for what those planets actually are, the first is designated PB-008A. It is what we call a Primordial World, meaning that life on that planet has yet to advance past the single-celled stage. Unfortunately, while the bacteria there are Dextro-amino and they have been able to keep the atmosphere stable and breathable, the soil composition cannot support our agriculture. Of course your plants might be different, and more in-depth soil composition data is available on the datapad we have provided you with. In addition you should all be aware that this planet has been fought over several times, meaning that a significant portion of its surface is irradiated." The doctor replied. That certainly wasn't encouraging, Ora mused. A planet that could not support agriculture, was heavily irradiated and probably had more than its share of unexploded munitions and toxic gas runoff beneath its surface.

"Wait, you said that the planet has been contested at one point. Who were you contesting it with?" Ille asked.

"All in due time. First decide where your people will be going, then we will explain to you your new duties." Teodore replied.

"Very well, what about the other two planets?" Ora asked before Ille could press the subject.

"The second planet is designated JH-098E. We currently consider it to be a hostile world, primarily due to the pollen that is constantly being released by the hyper-aggressive local megaflora. The plants there are extremely fast-growing, many species are carnivorous, and they are almost impossible to contain. To make matters worse, the pollen they constantly release into the air can cause near-instant death to any human who breathes in without a respirator. The planet was not always like this, but shortly before our fleets arrived to take the world the Ethereals seeded it with invasive lifeforms as a means of denying it to us. We are hoping that your race would be more resistant to the pollen, and thus would be able to finally clear the planet with a method other than orbital bombardment. In terms of " Tanaka replied, and Ora's hopes sank further. Settling on such a planet would be a death sentence for the Quarians.

"They can't be serious. It's either starvation or be eaten by toxic plants!" Hela exclaimed.

"The final planet is designated GH-041AnP, and is also considered to be a hostile planet. This is due to the world's highly aggressive wildlife, which has displayed significantly above-average intelligence and coordination in its attempts to remove our research base. Fortunately the wildlife does not possess any sort of technology, and a perimeter of automated defense turrets have been more than sufficient for the purpose of keeping our base clear. As such, you will have to share the planet with our researchers should you choose to settle there. Atmosphere is breathable, climate is temperate, and soil is arable provided your plants have the right amino acid chirality." When the doctor finished, Ora turned to face his fellow admirals.

"It seems like that is the choice we are getting. A barren war zone, a hellish jungle world, or a planet populated by intelligent super-predators."

"Not much of a choice. The first will lead to mass starvation, which would in turn lead to a coup and probably draw the ire of our new overlords and the second will kill us all in a matter of months... The third planet is the only one that isn't certain death." Zerrek pointed out.

"I agree. My vote is for the third planet." Ille said.

"I would honestly prefer staying on the Fleet to any of these." Lia added.

"That is not an option. They want us on a planet, where they can keep an eye on us and eliminate us if they need to, instead of on a fleet that can scatter at a moment's notice. Still, when it comes down to it I prefer living, and the third planet is the only choice I see where we survive." Hela said, sighing.

"I take it we are all in favor of the third planet?" Ora asked.

"I would prefer to actually visit the damn place before making any sort of decision, but we don't have much of a choice now, do we?" Hela replied.

"Yes... I vote in favor of the third planet." Lia said.

"Very well then." Ora replied, turning back to the humans as he did so.

"We have decide on... GH-041AnP..." He said, hoping that he did not mangle the pronunciation too badly.

"I see... Very well. A message will be sent ahead to inform the scientists of your arrival. Now, Fehime will explain your new responsibilities as a client race of Humanity." Teodore said, gesturing towards the green-uniformed woman. She began to speak a moment later.

"As a race that has both proven to be capable of independent action and has peacefully surrendered to Humanity the terms given to you are extremely lenient, with their end goal being the integration of your people into Human society. As such, you will primarily be subject to the same laws and regulations as the Human people. However, several allowances have been made given the situation faced by your race. First and foremost, you will be granted a twenty year exemption from our conscription law in order to properly settle onto the world granted you by Humanity. During this time period, you will be required to both raise your race's population growth rate to match that of a Human world of similar population and build up the necessary agricultural framework to support future Quarian conscripts. In order to ensure that both of these objectives are met, your species will be placed under the rule of a Human governor. Your species will continue to be under Human governance until both twenty years have passed and your population has exceeded five billion individuals. Once both of these milestones have been reached, Quarian gubernatorial candidates will be considered for appointment alongside Humans." Ora nodded at that. Compared to what he had feared, the possibility of a Quarian governor after twenty years was very generous.

"We are also aware of the health issues faced by Quarians due to their weak immune systems and the disadvantages such problems create on the battlefield. As such, the Department of Biology and Medical Research has agreed to begin research into a potential cure for this condition. In order to develop proper gene therapy treatments, the Department expects at least five thousand volunteer test subjects, including at least five hundred adolescents and children. Assuming you remain loyal, the administration of the treatment may begin as early as ten years from now. It is our goal to successfully treat your entire race by the time the acclimatization period ends and conscription begins. Priority of treatment will be given to those who will be of conscription age when the acclimatization period ends." Fehime continued.

Ora opened his mouth to ask a question, but Fehime spoke again a moment later, answering his question.

"Conscription is universal. Every Human between the ages of sixteen and eighteen is conscripted into our military, with some exceptions for special cases. The same law will apply to your people once the acclimatization period is over and the infrastructure for supporting your soldiers has been established. Every Quarian of appropriate age is expected to perform this duty, and the withholding of conscripts will be considered an act of treason and punished appropriately. Exemptions will be made only for special cases as determined by the planetary administration. Your people will not be granted the right to form planetary regiments until fifty years have passed and your planetary population exceeds ten billion." She explained. Ille was the first to respond, giving voice to the question that had hung in the air for quite some time.

"Who will they be fighting?" She asked. The Humans exchange glances before Teodore nodded and gave their response.

"For all of Humanity's history as an interstellar power, and even long before that, we have been at war with an ancient and powerful alien race that we have designated the Ethereals. Over the course of their immense history as a galactic power, the Ethereals have enslaved and subjugated countless alien races, reducing them to little more than unthinking beasts of burden." At that, a hologram in the center of the table sprang to life, revealing a tall, thin, four-armed alien wearing an ornate set of robes over silver armor.

"Out of all the races they have encountered, we are the first to ever resist them successfully. We were the first race to throw off the yoke they tried to place on us, and we will be the race that rids the galaxy of their presence once and for all. The price of your survival and citizenship is to join us in our war against them. Should you refuse to join this war against an enemy that threatens all life in the galaxy, you will be considered complicit in their crimes and treated accordingly." Teodore continued. As he spoke the hologram shifted, punctuating his words with horrific images. Some were of Human figures in various stages of decomposition floating within immense vats of green liquid, while others were of terrifying aliens, each and every one of which bore clear signs of alteration.

"If the Ethereals find you, this will be your fate. At that point, I would consider purging your entire race with orbital bombardment to be a mercy." The Human let his statement hang in the air.

Of course, there was only one answer to that. After all, the Quarian surrender had been unconditional and the Humans seemed all too willing to use extreme force in order to ensure that they would stay in line. Ora had known from the start that there would be no negotiations at this meeting, and as far as he was concerned his people had indeed gotten very generous terms. They may have gotten a deadly planet populated by intelligent super-predators, but at least it was a planet. Universal conscription, while definitely concerning, could be treated as a replacement for the pilgrimage as they were both dangerous ventures into the unknown for the benefit of the Quarian race. There was no question as to whether or not he and the rest of the Admiralty Board would accept the terms. Indeed, they already had done just that. The only issue that they had to face now was breaking the news to the Quarian people.

"Very well. When the time comes, the Quarian people will stand alongside you." He finally replied. Teodore smiled at that, before extending his hand. Having seen such gestures before, Ora took the offered hand and shook it.

* * *

Solias Kerikan had never enjoyed being idle. Over the course of his life this feeling of requiring something to occupy his time manifested in different ways, from incessant fidgeting as a child, to obsession over every piece of kit during his military service, to commendable diligence during his tenure as Professor of Unification War History at the Horaka University on Palaven. It was this diligence that had led him to Barcia, where he had offered to teach for several months at the relatively small colony's only worthwhile university. Granted, he had not known back then that Barcia would be one of the first worlds targeted by the Humans in their invasion of Turian space.

Like any good Turian, he volunteered to join the militia. However, his age had meant that the younger volunteers had been given equipment ahead of him. Somewhat ironically, that had ended up saving his life when the Humans invaded. He still remembered those five agonizing days of orbital bombardment with crystal clarity, having spent them huddling in a reinforced basement with several other Turians who hadn't been able to make it to the shelter. Sheer dumb luck had saved them when the building above collapsed on top of them, and its ruins had shielded them from the two days afterward, when the planet had been oh so briefly contested.

There weren't many Turians left on Barcia by the time the Humans dug them out.

"Attention all residents of the Human Occupied Territory of Barcia! It is your duty to ensure that your children are able to live safe and productive lives! All children below the age of ten are to be sent to a Youth Rehabilitation Center by Order 21 of the Occupational Government! Their service guarantees their citizenship!" That order, broadcast by loudspeaker throughout the internment camp, caused Solias' fists to clench hard enough to drive his claws into the palms of his hands and tear through the flimsy plastic ration bag he was holding.. His own son on Palaven was young enough to fall under that order.

It was obvious that the Humans had come to stay, and they seemed to be doing their damnedest to ensure that the next generation of Turians grew up loyal. More than most, Solias knew what 'Youth Rehabilitation Center' really meant. After all, the Hierarchy of Palaven had done something very similar in order to prevent a restart of the Unification Wars.

A shrill whistle sounded out in the distance, and the gates to the camp opened a minute later. From where he stood, Solias could just about see the laborers marching back into the camp, flanked by Human guards. He quickly counted off just how many there were, arriving at forty-eight. Six days ago, that group had left with fifty.

"Attention! The Voluntary Labor Battalions are always accepting new members! Medical treatment and extra rations are guaranteed to all volunteer laborers!" The announcement echoed through the camp as Solias resumed his walk to his barracks, which he shared with about twenty other Turians.

"What did you get this time?" Dorian Arakis, one of said twenty Turians, greeted as he walked into the ramshackle building. He had managed to reach a shelter and managed to survive the subsequent battle, only to be captured after being knocked unconscious by an artillery strike.

"Our illiterate overlord gave me a slightly irradiated can of preserved fruit and a bag of some kind of grain. Do you know what this stuff is?" Siloris replied, lifting up the bluish bag of grain as he did so.

"Hmm... I'm not sure but it looks edible enough. We've just started up the communal fire out back, so just hand it to Chef and see what he makes of it." Dorian replied. Siloris thanked him, and did just that.

Chef, as his title implied, had been a cook at a local restaurant when the invasion hit. He took one look at the bag of grain and shook his head.

"What do they think we are, barnyard animals? This sort of shit is what you feed to Eliga! Give it here, I'll boil it until it's edible." He replied, snatching the bag out of Siloris' hands and placing it near a large pot filled with hopefully clean water.

Just then, four rapid knocks sounded out through the barracks.

"Is that us?" Siloris asked. An armored fist on a metal door only meant one thing.

"No... It was them." Chef replied, pointing at one of the nearby barracks, which was barely visible through the gap between two buildings. Five armored Humans stood at its entrance, weapons drawn. That building in particular was set apart from the rest by its inhabitants, who were probably the only Quarians left on the planet. The door opened a moment later, and the Humans entered.

A few minutes later, the Quarians within were herded out, before being marched away by their Human minders.

"Did you just see that? The Humans just took all the Quarians!" Dorian exclaimed as he ran out of the building.

"Any idea where to?" Chef asked.

"I don't know." Dorian replied.

"What could they possibly want with Quarians?" Chef demanded.

"I... I think I might have an idea." Siloris replied.

"Well? What is it, Professor?" Dorian asked.

"It... The only think I can think of is that the Humans found the Migrant Fleet. It was in Turian space when the invasion happened, at least." He answered.

"Spirits... If they gave it the same treatment they gave our fleets, those guys could be some of the last Quarians in the galaxy!" Chef exclaimed.

"We'll ask them when they come back." Dorian said.

However, the Quarians did not come back.

* * *

The next morning, another Human team marched through the camp, and this time they knocked on Siloris' barracks door.

"Professor Kerikan, we know you are in here! Your presence is required! Come out now!" The automatically translated voice echoed through the building, waking the few sleeping Turians inside.

"What do they want with you?" Dorian asked as Siloris slid out of his sleeping pallet.

"I don't know." Siloris replied as he walked over and opened the door.

"Professor Kerikan?" The Human opposite him asked.

"Yes..." Siloris replied. As he had learned, back-talk to a Human guard was grounds for a beating, or worse.

"Your presence is required. Follow us." The Human ordered, before turning and walking away. Siloris followed, while two other Human guards formed up behind him. They set a quick pace, one that he struggled to meet in his hunger.

Fortunately, the walk to the Human administrative center was not far. It had been a hotel before the invasion, and it had made it through the orbital bombardment relatively unscathed. Indeed, the only visible damage to the structure was the giant crater in its roof, courtesy of a Human drop pod.

His escort said something to one of the guards at the door, who promptly stood aside and let him in. Siloris followed the Human into what had once been storage room. Now it held a desk, probably looted, at which sat a Human. Unusually for its people, it wore no helmet.

"Sit." The Human ordered, and Siloris did so.

"You are Professor Kerikan, correct?" It asked.

"Yes." Siloris replied.

"You specialize in the history of a period known to your race as the Unification Wars, correct?" The Human asked.

"Yes." Siloris replied, curious now.

"Good. Now, as I understand, the Unification Wars were a series of conflicts where the outlying colonies of the Turian Hierarchy began to declare independence, fragmenting the Hierarchy and leading to a bloody civil war that the Palaven Hierarchy finally won. Correct?" Siloris nodded at that, wondering where the Human was going. It was a very simplified explanation, leaving out the Hierarchy's use of neutrality to make the different colonies fight and thus weaken themselves, but the general summary was right.

"Yes..." He replied.

"Good. Now, I wish for you to explain to me the actions taken by the Palaven Hierarchy in the immediate aftermath to ensure the continued loyalty of the colonists to the Primarch on Palaven." Oh, so that is what the Human wanted.

"You want me to explain to you how to better subjugate my own people?!" Siloris exclaimed, causing three guns to be leveled at him.

"I suppose you could put it that way as well, yes." The Human replied.

"Forget it. I don't care what you do, to me or to anyone else, I refuse to-" An impact to the back of his head cut him off.

"Sergeant, enough." The Human behind the desk spoke, likely addressing the Human who had hit him with his translator still active. The Human then paused for a moment, allowing Siloris to recover before continuing.

"Your species' devotion is admirable, Professor, but it is misplaced. Your Hierarchy is being driven back as we speak, and soon we will reach your homeworld. As we speak your people are dying in a pointless war, and still more die as they continue to resist after their planets have fallen. Your expertise puts you in the unique position of being able to save the lives of your fellow Turians-" This was as far as the Human got before Siloris exploded.

"You want us to stop resisting? Then leave our worlds and never return! Your people come here, slaughter us in battle, enslave and starve the survivors, take our children away for brainwashing and then expect us to cooperate with you? The Turian people will n-" Another rifle butt to the back of his head silenced him.

"Your words are admirable, but they are false. Two generations is all it will take, and your people will fall in line. Twenty years from now, the Turians of this world will pledge allegiance to us. The only thing that will be determined now is how many of you will survive to see that moment. You have an opportunity to help save your people, and to ease their transition from a hostile alien power to valuable allies and citizens. Right now, the only thing preventing the order to just round you up and shoot you all from coming down the chain of command is the fact that the powers at the head of my people do not wish to kill a race that has no reason to die-"

"Then how do you explain the Quarians yesterday? You marched them out, and they-"

"The Quarians have been relocated to their Migrant Fleet, which has just concluded peaceful surrender talks with Humanity. Unlike your own race, they have realized the futility of resistance and have instead made the decision to become part of our people. They are willing to pay the price of Human citizenship, and thus have earned the protections afforded to them by it. Your race is not, and thus must continue to be punished. You have a chance to end this and ensure a brighter future for the Turian race." The Human replied, looking at him expectantly. Siloris growled out his response a moment later.

"No. I refuse."

"We have no desire to needlessly oppress your race, Professor. All actions we have taken thus far were deemed necessary due to your species continued desire to resist. For the last time, I will give you the opportunity to end the suffering your species faces under our occupation by cooperating with me and my men." The Human asked again.

"For the last time, I refuse. I swore an oath to the Turian Hierarchy at the start of my military service and I would sooner die than break it!" Siloris shouted.

"Very well. Take him to interrogation. They will have gotten the memo on what to extract by now." As soon as the order was given, a rifle butt slammed hard into his head, causing him to fall forward out of his chair. As his vision darkened, he felt a pair of armored hands grab his legs and start dragging him away.

* * *

"There are times when I wish that assassin had better aim. Then I wouldn't have to deal with this." Councilor Barakis sighed into his glass of Dextro alcohol. Dalatrass Verlin shot him a look from where she sat beside him.

"Don't speak like that. Your people are lucky that you are alive and fighting for them in the Council." She replied.

"Are they? The first news I saw when I got out of surgery told me that I had mismanaged the situation with the Volus so badly that they resorted to blowing up two spirits-damned relays, killing millions of my people in the process! Six hundred thousand on Castig, two million on Arrenia, and those are just the ones confirmed dead!" Barakis shouted, downing his glass in one gulp before demanding a refill.

"I'm sorry Councilor, but I have been ordered to cut you off. We cannot have you drunk on the job." The Turian barman spoke up, causing his Councilor to curse.

"Dammit Barkeep, I am your superior officer and I order you to-"

"I have the right to refuse orders that are given by individuals who are not in their right mind, and... With all due respect Councilor, I owe you enough to ensure that your hangover isn't too bad when you meet with the Asari tomorrow."

"That's worth another drink in its own right!" Barakis shouted.

"I'm sorry about this. We're all under too much stress right now." Verlin apologized a moment later.

"I... It's not a problem. Ever since the invasion started, you two have fought for my people. My family owes you a debt, that is for sure." The barman replied.

"I see... Are you being evacuated to the Terminus Refuge Zone, by any chance?" Verlin asked.

"Yes, as soon as our Councilor secures passage for us through Asari space, my family is out." The Barman replied.

"So you don't think that Palaven can be saved?" Barakis demanded.

"Even if Palaven can be saved once, what's stopping the invaders from trying again? I've heard that some reporters have committed suicide on hearing about the attrition rates in space! Even if we stop one attack on Palaven, we will not be able to stop another! Palaven is lost, and relocation to the old Terminus DMZ is our only hope of keeping our people alive!" The Barman replied. To that, Barakis had no response.

"Come on, Barakis. You need to rest for tomorrow." Verlin broke the silence a moment later, standing up as she spoke.

"I've slept enough at the hospital." Barakis replied, resting his head on the table.

"This is non-negotiable. Your guards are getting bored outside." Verlin replied, pulling the Turian councilor up as she did so. She struggled briefly at the weight, but still managed to drag him out of the bar.

* * *

The Independent Republic of Irune had lasted a grand total of three days before being placed under martial law. As it turned out, the sudden rationing of food, the slaughter of millions of friendly neighbors, and the realization that they were now completely and utterly alone in the galaxy had not been taken well by the populace.

Fortunately for Sarlo Hes, the rioting had not damaged the Irune deep-space sensor array, and the military cordon around it had been rather lenient when it came to allowing employees in and out. After all, they were the ones who were in charge of monitoring the Aru system for any invader presence. As such, all it took for Sarlo to get by was a quick flash of his ID, after which he stepped into the building.

"See anything?" He asked as he entered the primary sensor room.

"Negative. All clear so far." Gora Jelk, who held the shift before him, replied as he stood up from his seat.

"Alright, then I guess I'll be taking over. Be careful out there, I've heard that some of the braver mobs will attack anyone in uniform." Sarlo replied as he sat down in Gora's place.

"Damn... What is this galaxy coming to if Plenix's teachings are forgotten like that?" Gora sighed as he prepared to leave the room.

Just then, one of the other sensor operators in the room spoke up, panic in her voice.

"Contact! Unidentified contact, above ecliptic and starward, distance is twenty light minutes! It's not broadcasting any sort of identification!"

"What? How- Contacts! Two... Seven... Twenty... Multiple contacts appearing voidward, above and below ecliptic, distance is twenty light minutes! There's hundreds of them!" Another officer shouted.

A quick look down at his own scanner screen revealed hundreds more dots popping into being on his own scanner.

"Contacts! Over two hundred, below ecliptic and starward, distance is twenty light minutes! They're closing fast!" Sarlo exclaimed.

"Get word over to command, now! Tell them we have thousands of unidentified ships entering the system!" Gora was the first to carry out that order, pulling up his omni-tool and placing the call.

"Nothing but static! I can't raise anyone!" He shouted a moment later before rushing out of the room. He came back a minute later, two scared-looking guards right behind him.

"Our military comms are offline as well! We cannot establish contact with command! We've sent a runner out, but he probably won't be able to reach them in time." Gora reported.

"More contacts appearing! Distance is five light minutes in all sectors!"

"Try to-" Whatever Gora had to say was cut off as the ground shook.

"Micro-FTL jump! The signatures at twenty minutes are sensor ghosts!" Sarlo exclaimed, his voice barely audible over the sound of whatever was going on outside.

"We're under orbital bombardment! They-" A deafening explosion cut Gora off as something came down directly on top of the sensor facility. A moment later, it was joined by the sounds of creaking metal and crumbling masonry as the building began to collapse.

"Everyone out, now!" Sarlo shouted as he sprinted for the door, only to trip and fall as another shot struck the building, causing the ceiling to collapse in a flash of green light. Before he could even think about getting up, a chunk of twisted steel came down on top of his legs, pinning him in place.

The collapse of the ceiling had removed any barriers to the outside, and the noise of a panicked city under attack now echoed through the ruined sensor facility. Alarms of all kinds blared, trying and failing to drown out the rumble of distant and nearby explosions. Chancing a look up Sarlo saw an immense black shape hovering over the city, its elliptical surface covered with guns that spat green fire onto the planet below.

He lay where he fell for what felt like an eternity, watching the ship above slowly lay waste to his home. Then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it stopped. That could only mean one thing, namely that a ground invasion was about to commence.

Suddenly, violet lightning flashed through the sky and strange, distorted voices echoed through his head. It felt like a bomb had gone off inside his brain, and Sarlo screamed as the pain continued to mount. Was this what had happened to the Turians on all those worlds lost to invasion?

 _Rejoice, children of Irune, for you have become part of something infinitely greater than yourselves._

Those words echoed through his head, the pain growing stronger with every repetition.

 _Rejoice!_

Strangely enough, though his head screamed in agony and his legs were almost certainly broken, Sarlo began to feel happy.

When the machines came to take him away, their tentacles tipped with surgical saws and needles, he cheered.

* * *

 **A/N:** **And that's a wrap! The Council has suffered its first casualty in the form of the Volus. However, while the Volus falling to the Ethereals was planned from the start, the way that it happened in this chapter was a bit of a last-minute alteration. The original plan was for the Volus to start work on their own Migrant Fleet, which would leave their home system when the Humans invaded before destroying the Aru Relay. This would have destroyed a large amount of Human ships, along with Irune. However, such a plan started to seem increasingly silly and over-dramatic once it came time to write it.**

 **While I was able to justify the destruction of a relay, I quickly decided that the Volus government advocating for the destruction of Irune would have been ridiculous, especially when they could just cut the system off from the wider galaxy instead. As such, once the Volus government realized that they would not be receiving military aid from Palaven, they decided to blow up the relays leading to Irune, killing millions of former allies in the process. I would hate to be a Volus trapped outside of Irune once news of this action gets out...**

 **Fat lot of good that did them, as once Irune was off the relay network, the Ethereals swooped in to add another race to their ranks of combat thralls.**

 **Next up are the Quarians. I feel like I did well in capturing the ruthless pragmaticism of Humanity when it came down to deciding their fate. To them, the Quarians are a resource and exterminating them after they have already proven cooperative is a waste. The possibility of such action is used to maintain their loyalty, but in the long run the Humans do not expect to have to use it. It seems like even in this fic, with such a radically different Humanity, the Quarians still seem like a perfect fit for integration into Human society. Harsh martial law? The Quarians have been under such conditions for centuries, to the point where they just don't care about it any more. Extinction around the corner? Ditto. Mass compulsory volunteering of youth into dangerous ventures which have a real chance of ending in death? They call it pilgrimage, Humanity calls it conscription. Once the Quarians prove themselves loyal and Humanity no longer sees them as filthy aliens, they would almost certainly get along quite nicely.**

 **The same cannot be said of the Turians, who currently hate Humanity for obvious reasons. Any survivors that the Humans can reach are herded into concentration camps, forced to give up their children to brainwashing initiatives, and generally have a miserable time. The motive for such an action is simple: Humanity wants to break the connection between the Hierarchy generation and the young generation that can still be moulded into loyal citizens. This means slowly strangling the hierarchy generations until they either submit or die off while brainwashing the kids and turning them against their own people. Once again, ruthless pragmaticism is at work here. Were the Turians to submit immediately, they would be treated much better, but they are Turians and they do not surrender. Indeed, low-scale guerrilla warfare continues on all former-Turian worlds, although I did not get to showcase it due to Siloris' short narrative taking place entirely within or around a concentration camp.**

 **At the end of the day, a certain famous quote from Nietzsche comes to mind with regards to Humanity's treatment of neutral alien races who just wanted to be left alone.**


	11. Chapter 9: A Step Towards Heroism

**A/N: A little late for a New Years' gift, but I hope you all enjoy this nonetheless. Also, by the time this chapter is released, the first installation of The Human War: Tales from the Front should also be out. More on that below.**

* * *

 _"My first thought upon seeing the_ Oreha _was that it was one of the ugliest warships in the galaxy outside of the Batarian fleet. My second thought was that I was seeing a piece of history, sitting right there in front of me... I can safely say that both of those thoughts were correct." -_ Excerpt from 2184 CNN Interview with Garrus Vakarian.

 **Chapter 9: A Step Towards Heroism**

It was amazing to see just how much Palaven had changed since the war had started, Saren mused as he walked along a hallway in the Cipritine Capitol. The building was a mixture of classical, millenia-old Turian architecture and sleek, modern expansions and reconstructions built after the Unification, and from its position on Capitoline Hill he could see the entirety of Cipritine spread out before him.

Or rather, he used to be able to. When he had first visited the building for an interview after awakening from his surgery, the city glowed with electric light, so much so that only the moon was visible in the sky. Now it was pitch black, the stars having returned in full force now that a blackout had been placed into effect. Now, the only light in the city came from the anti-orbital batteries that were being set up, immense floodlights illuminating the sites where the cannons, some of which matched the skyscrapers in height, were being erected.

Up above, hundreds of glimmering lights moved across the starry sky, each speck denoting the presence of a starship or space station. Joining them were several asteroids, visible from the ground as small black dots. These had been towed into position to act as gun batteries, further bolstering the formidable defenses of the Turian homeworld.

Against any Citadel race, maybe even against all of them combined, such a panoply of defensive might would have been capable of blunting any attack. However, against the aliens from beyond known space...

"Commander Arterius?" One of the guards at his destination spoke up, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Yes. I was told to report here." Saren replied, producing an ID card as he did so. The guard took it, passed his omni-tool over it, and handed it back.

"Your appointment is in ten minutes in Room Three." Saren thanked the guard as he took his card, then proceeded onward into the waiting room for the Cipritine quantum entanglement communication hub. A secretary greeted him as he settled down to wait in one of the few empty chairs.

The room was filled with important-looking Turians, including several generals. All of them watched the doors on the other side of the room.

"General Keras, Room Two is available." As the secretary spoke, one of the doors opened and a frustrated-looking Turian walked out.

"Any luck?" One of the seated Turians asked.

"No. Apparently there aren't any convoys available to take our cargo to Sur'kesh." The other replied.

"You're kidding me, right? One of our Spectres died to get those samples, and we're just going to have them sit in the docks?"

"I tried telling them about how time-sensitive the material samples are, but she wasn't having any of it."

"Damn. Hopefully she'll listen to me. This is the stuff that all the alien tech runs on, and it's got a fifteen day half life outside of whatever techno-magical bullshit stasis chambers they keep it in! At this rate, half the sample will be gone by the time the Salarians get their hands on it!"

Saren tuned the rest of the discussion out, his thoughts moving to his own appointment.

The quantum entanglement device in Room Three was linked directly to the Citadel, and was used primarily as a way of communication between officials on Palaven and the Turian Councilor.

Just then, the door to Room Three opened, and Saren instantly recognized his brother when he stepped out.

"Commander Arterius, Room Three is available." The secretary spoke up. Desolas looked over at that, quickly picking him out from the rest of the waiting Turians.

"Saren! I suppose congratulations are in order." Desolas greeted, walking over to him.

"Congratulations? For what?" Saren asked.

"You mean you haven't been told? Well, then I won't spoil the surprise. Suffice to say, your days of cooling your heels on Palaven are over." Desolas replied.

"What? You mean I'm being deployed?" Saren asked.

"In a sense. The Councilor didn't mention much when he was briefing me." Desolas replied.

"Briefing you? So you're being deployed as well?" Saren asked.

"Yes. I've finally gotten my command back at least, and now I'm off to protect the Terminus Refuge Zone." Desolas replied.

"You mean that you've been sent to fight pirates while the aliens are on Palaven's doorstep?" Saren asked.

"Someone has to protect the refugees, and the Asari aren't doing it." Desolas replied.

"Have they done anything useful in this war?" Saren asked.

"They let our refugees pass through their space, so that's something. Anyway, the councilor is waiting for you, and I think you will like what you hear." Desolas said, before turning and heading for the door.

"Very well. Stay safe out there, brother."

"You too."

With those words, Desolas exited the waiting room, and Saren took that as his cue to enter the communications room.

The door slid shut behind him, and the dark communication room lit up a moment later.

"Commander Arterius, reporting." Saren spoke first, saluting the hologram of the Turian Councilor that had shimmered into being in the center of the room.

"At ease, commander." The Councilor replied, returning the salute.

"I trust your new arm hasn't been giving you any trouble?" The Councilor asked.

"It's better than the original." Saren replied, twitching the prosthetic limb as he did so. His left arm had fused with his armor when his APC was hit, and the army doctors hadn't gotten him to nerve regeneration gear in time to save what remained of the limb. Originally, he had been issued a standard artificial limb, but a few days ago it had been replaced with a high-grade combat prosthetic. Saren still had no idea who had arranged for the limb replacement, or why they had done so, especially since his brother had denied any involvement.

"Good. I would hate to have seen my efforts to get it to you go to waste because of something as silly as prosthetic rejection."

"T-Thank you, sir! I ha-" Saren exclaimed, but the Councilor's raised hand cut him off.

"You can thank me later, my time is short. The purpose of this meeting is to inform you that, thanks to the recent death of SpecTRe Gerastos, the Asari councilor has finally approved my push to appoint a new SpecTRe, on the condition that you be that SpecTRe." That surprised Saren, to say the least.

"What- Me? A SpecTRe? And why would the Asari Councilor-"

"Several reasons. The Asari believe that by turning around and plugging their ears, they can avoid the war that's blazing on their doorstep. To that end, Tevos is trying to obstruct our efforts in order to force a quicker end to the conflict. Evidently, she believes that your brother is still disgraced, and that your association with him would reduce your influence and effectiveness. My recent request to put Desolas in charge of Terminus defense has only solidified her opinion on the matter, and has allowed for your appointment to your new position."

"I... I understand, sir." Saren replied.

"Good. Normally your promotion would be in a grand ceremony on the Citadel, but as you can see, circumstances dictate otherwise. Your status has just been updated in official databases. As a SpecTRe, you are the secret executor of the Council's will. In your case, you will primarily be receiving orders from myself and Councilor Verlin. You will also be given the authority to pursue missions independently according to your own assessment of the situation. I caution you, however, about doing so against our current enemy. That is what got your predecessor killed, after all."

"What happened to him?" Saren asked.

"SpecTRe Gerastos attempted to mount a raid on alien-held territory with the intent of capturing alien technology for analysis. Her ship returned with several interesting samples, but she was killed in action. Indeed, your first order from me will be to oversee the transport of those samples from Palaven to Sur'Kesh."

"It will be done, sir." Saren replied.

"Good. A ship has been assigned to you, fresh out of drydock. Its captain will brief you on its unique capabilities."

"Understood, sir. Is there anything else?" Saren asked.

"Yes... Saren, you were chosen specifically because one of my fellow councilors thought you would fail. I want you to... No, I order you to prove her wrong. I've looked at your files, and where she sees potential for failure, I see opportunity. In every war that we have fought, there are names that go down in history. Generals who prevailed against overwhelming odds, soldiers who performed above and beyond the call of duty, commanders who led their troops to victory and turned the tide of conflict... All of them are heroes, and you have been given the opportunity to become one. I suggest you take it." Saren nodded.

"I will do my best." He replied.

"Oh, and one more thing. We will need heroes after this war is over too, so be careful."

"I will, sir."

"Very well. You are dismissed." At that, the hologram shimmered out of existence, and Saren left the room.

Upon exiting, he quickly spotted the two Turians who had been discussing the fate of a certain sample. Walking up to them, he introduced himself.

"Good afternoon. I am SpecTRe Arterius, and I believe I have a solution to your little transport issue." Their faces lit up as they heard those words.

* * *

"Here we are, sir. The _Oreha_... Or, at least part of it." The shuttle pilot spoke, gesturing at the ship that was sitting in the orbital cradle several hundred meters ahead of them.

"It certainly looks... Odd." Saren commented, taking in the view as the ship... His ship, grew on the monitor.

"That it does. It was a collaborative design with the Salarians, and they insisted on building half the damn thing on Sur'kesh. It's still there, so we'll have to spend a few days in drydock, putting the ship together. Still, this half of the ship was made with good Turian engineering, and it's a damn good vessel if I do say so myself!" The pilot replied.

Saren scrutinized his ship as the shuttle began to circle around it, comparing it to the more common frigate classes in service with the Turian navy. Visually, there were many striking differences. He had seen frigates in similarly sized cradles before, and the _Oreha_ was significantly smaller, at least in terms of length. Even more unusually, where most Turian ships had two engines located in the roots of their backwards-swept wings, his ship had four, tightly packed above and below the roots of the forward-swept wings. Missile pods were visible on the wings' undersides, along with what appeared to be oversized attachment rails.

"I don't see a main gun anywhere." Saren commented.

"Yeah, that's what the Salarians were working on. They've claimed that it has the power to take out an alien dreadnought, but you know how it is with the Salarians. Always overstating the capabilities of their tech." The pilot replied as they swung around the cradle, an open hangar bay coming into view as they did so. The pilot deftly squeezed the shuttle inside, barely managing to not scrape the side of a Markata IFV, which bore the clear signs of being modified for aerial drop operations.

"Here we are, sir! Oh, and before I forget, I am Opius Elvodos, Airman First Class, Pilot of the _Oreha'_ s shuttle compliment." The pilot introduced himself as the door slid open.

"I look forward to working with you, Ariman Elvodos." Saren replied, before walking out into the cramped hangar bay. The crew had evidently been forewarned of his arrival, and they had assembled in the hangar bay to greet him.

"SpecTRe on deck!" An officer called out, and fifty two Turian sailors saluted. Saren returned the gesture, realizing as he did so that he had no idea what to do next. Still, Desolas had told him time and time again that a leader must never give off an impression of indecision, and so he cleared his throat.

"My name is Saren Arterius, and I am a Council SpecTRe. Upon my shoulders, and on yours as well, lies the duty of the protection of the Turian race and its allies. Right now, that duty means eliminating the alien threat that has already taken so many of our worlds and extinguished countless billions of lives. For those we have lost, for those who even now must suffer under a cruel alien occupation, and for those of us who still live free, we must now fight. We must stand as part of their bulwark against the enemy. We must fight on, even in the face of overwhelming odds! Even if it takes our lives, we will eliminate our enemy! We will show them the true mettle of the Turian Hierarchy!"

Some of the crew cheered at that. Even more of them clapped politely, but Saren could see that many of them had uncertain looks on their faces. Saren ignored them. He knew that he would have to prove himself to this crew.

"As many of you are already aware, our first mission will take us to Sur'kesh, where we are to deliver a vital sample of alien material to the Salarians, as well as receive our vessel's primary armament. We will depart as soon as possible. You are all dismissed." Saren finished somewhat lamely. The crew dispersed, save for one officer. His rank insignia proclaimed him to be the ship's captain.

"That was a nice speech, SpecTRe." He greeted as Saren approached him.

"Thank you." Saren new forced politeness when he saw it, and this captain wasn't putting much effort into it.

"I am captain Vilneas Astekis. Welcome aboard my ship." The captain introduced himself, placing emphasis on the 'my'. Saren quickly realized what the problem was.

"Thank you, Captain Astekis... May I speak frankly with you?" Saren asked, deliberately pausing for effect.

"Yes?" Astekis replied, uncertainty leaking into his voice. Evidently he had been expecting something else.

"Thank you, captain." Saren replied, before once again pausing as he began to formulate his next speech.

"I... I am a soldier, not a sailor. This ship may have been assigned to me, but I am not in any way qualified to command it in battle. As such, I do not, in any way, intend to infringe on your command duties with regards to this ship." He finally said.

"I see." The captain replied, his voice neutral. Saren considered continuing the conversation, but ultimately decided against it.

"Now, how much longer until we can leave for Sur'kesh? From what I was told, the sample we are transporting is time-sensitive." He finally asked, changing the subject.

"We should be in five hours. When is this sample scheduled to be delivered?" The captain asked.

"In two hours, assuming everything happens according to schedule." Saren replied.

"Good. Now, shall we proceed with the tour of the ship?" Astekis asked.

"Yes. Thank you." Saren replied, and promptly followed the captain deeper into the hangar bay.

"The _Oreha_ is a one-of-a-kind ship, sir. As you may have heard, it was a collaborative project between the Turian hierarchy and the Salarian Union, with our people providing the spaceframe while the Salarians provide the main gun. We've upheld our part, building a spaceframe that has not only surpassed the unusual requirements that the Salarians made, but is also is a capable warship in its own right. It may lack a spinal cannon in its current state, but it is the fastest ship in the Turian fleet. Right now, it is armed with one hundred and sixty disruptor torpedoes, stored in sixteen wing-mounted launchers. She also has six fixed, forward-firing three-hundred-thousand megajoule broadside guns in her bow, and twelve more one hundred and sixty thousand megajoule guns in dorsal and wing-mounted turrets. Finally, we have been authorized to carry four two-hundred megaton antimatter mines." Astekis explained as he led Saren to the elevator.

"Three hundred thousand megajoules? I thought that those were cruiser caliber weapons." Saren commented.

"We quite literally took the broadside guns off a cruiser and stuffed them into our bow." The captain answered, before continuing.

"In terms of defenses, her armor is paper thin. The upper echelons figured that we can't make anything capable of withstanding a hit from one of the enemy's main guns, and as such they've stripped off what little armor this ship should have had in exchange for extra speed. Our kinetic barriers are fairly strong though, given how they were designed for a ship one and a half times bigger than ours, and thus gain greater reserves as a result. We've also got six GARDIAN point defense lasers, latest model." Astekis paused at the entrance to the ship's main elevator.

"This hangar has capacity for up to three shuttlecraft, although we're only carrying one at the moment. We're also carrying a hot-drop Markata, for your personal use in ground ops. Aside from the hangar, this deck also houses our cargo hold and the mine deployment system." Astekis finished, before opening the elevator.

As the two of them entered, Saren noticed that several of the buttons leading to the lower decks were covered with a clear plastic screen, which had been crudely taped to the elevator control panel.

"What is..." Saren gestured towards it, and Astekis quickly explained.

"Ah, the bottom few decks are a few thousand light years away, above Sur'kesh. For now, don't hit those buttons. The elevator will drop down into empty space and it's a pain to get it back into the shaft." Saren nodded at that, and Astekis hit the button leading to the third deck.

This deck was much more populated, with several crewmen saluting them as they stepped out of the elevator.

"This is the crew deck. Our sleeping quarters, mess hall, infirmary, and arena are all located here. Our marine compliment will have its armory located in the bow on this deck as well, once they actually come aboard." Astekis explained, leading Saren through the mess hall to a door on the left side of the room. The door slid open to reveal a large bedroom, with a built-in washroom.

"These are your quarters, sir." The captain said simply, before turning away. The door slid shut behind Saren as he followed suit. He was led sternward, entering a large room that held the clearly recognizable drive core.

"This is our primary drive core. It's sized for a three-hundred meter frigate, which means it's producing enough power for our ship and then some." The two engineers saluted as they passed by, circling the drive core as they made their way towards the door on the other side of the room.

"In here is the secondary bridge." Astekis explained, opening the door to the cramped room. Saren looked around for a few moments, before turning back and allowing the captain to lead him back to the elevator.

"This is the command deck. Welcome to the _Oreha's_ bridge." Astekis said as they entered the uppermost deck on the ship. Said bridge was filled with crew, all of whom were absorbed in their work.

The two of them walked a circuit through the bridge, returning the occasional salute, before finally heading towards the stern.

"Aside from the bridge, my quarters are also located up here, along with the communications room. The Salarians have claimed that they've already prepared a QEC linked to the Citadel for installation on Sur'kesh." Astekis finished.

"Just what exactly will this ship be gaining on Sur'kesh?" Saren asked.

"Several things. Two extra decks, for one. We will also be gaining our primary armament, which I am told is some sort of antimatter cannon, along with a second drive core to power it all. Finally, there is an emission sink system designed to aid in our vessel's stealth. I'm forwarding the full data on this ship to you now." Astekis replied.

"Thank you, captain. If there is nothing else, I will leave you to do your duty." Saren replied as his omni-tool chimed.

"No, there is nothing else, Commander Arterius. Assuming all goes according to schedule, we leave for Sur'kesh in five hours." Astekis replied.

"Very well." Saren said, and left.

* * *

"Target, distance four hundred meters, red building." Zaeed said, eyeing said building through his helmet visor's magnification sight. A moment later, a bolt of plasma flew through one of the building's windows, eliminating the alien that had been highlighted within.

"Another one down." Vido reported a moment later.

"Any more left?" Maria asked.

"Briefing said four squads, and that was the sixteenth. Given how we were fighting Ogyres and Rock Wolves, that means we've downed them all." Zaeed replied. As if on cue, the scenario ended, and the room lost its texture, shifting back into the grey holographic training hall that they had entered. Buildings folded back into the walls, and the exit doors opened.

Zaeed quickly leaped down from his crow's nest and rejoined his squad as they headed towards the exit. Sergeant Hardy greeted them there.

"Congratulations are in order, cadets. Your group's caught the eye of some very important people." He said as they saluted.

"Sir?" Zaeed risked a question.

"I will let them explain themselves. Suffice to say, you four have made me very proud." At that, Hardy stood aside, and two uniformed officers stepped in to take his place. Zaeed stifled a gasp when he saw the insignia on their uniforms.

"Earth First..." Victor breathed, his voice amplified by his helmet speakers.

"Zaeed Massani, Vido Santiago, Maria Stephanova, Victor Harris..." The first officer, a tall man with greying black hair and sharp blue eyes, began.

"The four of you have performed exceptionally well in the initial few rounds of small-unit simulated combat scenarios, with a casualty rate of zero percent and a one hundred percent mission completion rate. When coupled with your prior combat experience on Shanxi, you have attracted our attention." Zaeed's mind began to work with that information. That was when the other officer, a younger blonde man, took over.

"Every year, several million of Luna's best cadets are accepted into the Earth First training program. This year, you four will be among them. Your training begins next Monday. Your room assignment changes will be transmitted to you by the end of the day, and you are expected to transfer any belongings and training equipment you may have to your quarters by the time training starts. All prospective Earth First cadets will be addressed in Auditorium One at 16:00 hours. Tardiness will reflect poorly on you. Congratulations." With those words, the Earth First recruiters turned and left the room.

The door had barely slid shut behind them when Sergeant Hardy spoke again.

"I'm not supposed to tell you what you will be facing, but what I can say is that the scenarios you've ran through so far are child's play in comparison to what you will face in Earth First training. You will be training to operate behind enemy lines, to fight and win hopeless battles, and to change the tides of war. Every year, millions are chosen for the Earth First, but only a few thousand make it through training." He explained. Then, he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a bundle. He handed it to Zaeed, who opened it to reveal a bottle of whiskey.

"It's a tradition among us drill instructors to hand these out to any squads that make it into Earth First training. You're supposed to open it when you finish. Good luck, to all of you." Hardy finished.

"Thank you, sir." Zaeed replied, his words echoed by the rest of the squad.

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when you've opened it and shared it with the rest of your future squadmates." Hardy replied. Then, he turned and left the room. The door slid shut, leaving the four of them alone in the room.

"Whoa..." Vido whispered. Then, a moment later, Maria leaped into the air.

"We did it!" She cheered.

"Goddamn... I'm almost tempted to open this here and now." Zaeed said, absentmindedly high-fiving Maria.

"Was that really Sergeant Hardass? He sounded like a complete different person." Victor commented.

"Still, the Earth First! They're considering us!" Maria exclaimed.

"First things first. We've got to pass through their training first." Zaeed cautioned.

"How hard can it be? We've aced every scenario Hardass has thrown at us!" Vido replied.

"I swear Vido, we're all going to be eating those words before the first week is out." Victor sighed.

"Forgive me for being optimistic!" Vido replied.

"Still, we should get moving. Training starts up in two days, so we should get settled into our new quarters as soon as possible." Zaeed pointed out.

"Good point. Let's go! I can't wait to see our new quarters! I heard the Earth First cadets get their own showers!" Maria exclaimed, and a few moments later she was leading the charge back to the Shanxi cadets' barracks.

Unusually, the barracks were already occupied when they arrived.

"Let me guess, the Earth First also tapped you guys?" Claudia Fontaine, whose squad had also managed a flawless record in the early simulated scenarios, asked as they entered.

"So we were not the only ones?" Zaeed asked.

"Nah. Counting us, there's been three squads so far. We ran into Ling's squad after we were informed, although they've already packed up and left."

"Wait, what? So many of us?" Maria asked, referring to her fellow Shanxi cadets.

"Sixty three of us came in from Shanxi, and twenty four of us went to the Navy. That means that damn near a third of us regimentals were picked for the Earth First so far." Zaeed replied.

"It must be the combat experience. I heard the Earth First gives veteran recruits preferential treatment when it comes to selections." Claudia mused.

"I heard the same." Zaeed replied, heading over to his bunk and beginning the simple process of packing up his belongings.

"Claude! We got it all!" Zaeed looked over at that just in time to see Claudia's three squadmates exit the girls' restrooms. Two of them held large bundles of toilet paper in their arms, while the third carried a mixture of towels, soap packages, and other miscellaneous hygiene supplies.

"Good work. I've just about finished with the bedding. Shame about the mattresses, but everything else's been stowed away." Claudia replied, gesturing towards the overstuffed bag at her feet.

"What are you doing?" Victor asked.

"Being prepared. I don't know what to expect, but I sure as hell am not going to let them take away my squad's comfort! Don't worry, we left the boys' bathroom untouched, you should be able to loot it just fine." Claudia replied.

"Good idea. Victor, Vido, get on that." Zaeed replied.

"What about... Well, you know..." Maria began.

"Oh, right. Sarah, mind sharing some of your goods with her? Not like the boys will find any of them in their bathroom." Claudia replied, and the girl complied.

"Whew, thanks! I should get packing." Maria replied, taking the offered package of feminine hygiene supplies.

"Yeah. Can you help me with the bedding?" Zaeed added, starting to strip his own bed.

"Alright." Maria replied, doing the same for hers. By the time Vido and Victor returned from the bathroom, their beds had also been stripped, their sheets all folded away into Zaeed's bag.

"Alright boys, we'll be seeing you there!" Claudia said as they began to pack up their personal belongings. With a parting wave, she walked out of the room, her squad following right behind her.

"You know, I wouldn't mind working with them." Vido spoke up a few moments after the door slid shut. That earned him a light smack upside the head from Maria.

"Focus... And not on them!" She chided.

"Yes mom!" Vido replied, sketching a salute as he did so.

"At ease, soldier!" Maria laughed, before turning to Zaeed.

"Got everything?" She asked.

"Pretty much. Not like we were able to bring much here in the first place." He replied, gesturing to his bag as he did so.

"True, true. They didn't even let us run home before herding us onto the transport." Maria said, lifting her own bag as she spoke.

Soon enough, they too had left their barracks.

* * *

"Captain, relay transition has been successful. Drift is under two thousand kilometers, and our ID codes have been transmitted to the Salarians. We have arrived at Sur'kesh." The _Oreha_ 's helmsman, Aplius Turonicus, reported.

"Excellent work. Set a course for Orbital Shipyard Complex number forty-seven. The rest of our ship is currently being prepared in Cradle Two." Astekis ordered.

Saren watched all this from the bridge, his face set in an mask of polite interest. In reality, he was bored out of his mind. Watching the ship operate without actually doing anything to help, had made him acutely aware that his presence aboard the _Oreha_ was currently unnecessary. Even worse, the ship's marine compliment was not actually onboard, having been held back on Palaven until the ship had completed its shakedown run.

That meant that almost all his time was spent either trying to interact with the rest of the crew in the mess hall, or using the simulators to teach himself how to drive the Markata in the hangar.

"Captain, I will go and prepare the sample for transfer to the Salarians. Tell them that I will be handing it over to them in person." He finally said.

"Very well." Astekis replied, before turning to his communications officer and relaying the order. Saren took that as his cue to leave, and headed down to the cargo bay. The sample was in a small case, and he easily lifted it and carried it back to the bridge.

Soon enough, he was back in the same position he was before, but now the sample case rested by his side.

After what seemed like an eternity, the orbital shipyard finally appeared on the screen. Its bottom half was already occupied, making docking a somewhat slow procedure. Still, the helmsman managed to get the job done, and soon enough the boarding tube extended and connected with the ship.

Almost immediately after the door opened, two labcoated scientists all but sprinted onboard.

"Where is it?" One of them demanded. Saren barely had enough time to lift the case before one of the scientists snatched it out of his hand. He promptly sprinted back out of the ship.

"Thank you very much. Depending on what is actually in there, you might have already helped turn the tide of the war." The other scientist replied, before following his colleague out.

"Well, that's the Salarians for you. Barely even a thank-you for something good Turians died for." Astekis muttered. Fortunately, he had kept his voice low enough that the engineers who boarded next did not hear it.

"Greetings. I am Senior Engineer Simant Dalon, and I will be supervising the installation of this ship's primary armament. For now, I request that all crew vacate this ship until installation is completed. Appropriate quarters have been prepared for you in the meantime." Their leader greeted.

Astekis looked mortified for a moment, before composing himself.

"Very well. I expect that this job be done as efficiently as possible. Lineus, order the crew to vacate the ship." The communications officer promptly relayed the order to the rest of the ship, while Astekis turned back to Simant.

"I do not want a single speck of paint to be out of place when we return, understood?" He asked.

"Understood." Simant replied, before turning to his subordinates and barking out an order to secure any loose objects onboard.

* * *

Soon enough, the ship was evacuated and the real work could begin. The Salarians worked fast, and barely three hours later the main cannon was slowly pushed upward by a squadron of micro-tugs, eventually settling into position between the frigate's downward-canted wings. Two large, curved booms had been clamped into place on the underwing attachment rails, serving to hold the cannon steady while the workers wielded it solidly into place.

"She looks a lot uglier now." Astekis pointed out from beside him.

Indeed, it was plain to see just which part of the ship was built where, with the primary hull being built in the angular Turian style and painted a standard grey and orange, while the bottom was sleek and Salarian in design, and was painted a bright white.

"I'm more worried about the logistical requirements of that monster. I've read through the specifications, captain, and this thing eats antimatter like a cruiser three times its size." Saren replied.

"True, but at the same time the projected firepower of that cannon is huge, easily a hundred times that of one of our dreadnoughts' main guns! Think of what it would do to an alien ship!" Astekis replied.

"That's only if it gets through the shield. If it hits the hull, it's practically a guaranteed kill on anything we've got, but antimatter can't exactly react against an energy shield." Saren pointed out.

"That's what the counter-projectile is for. We're shooting a reactant projectile alongside the antimatter stream, so that even if the shot misses or hits enemy shielding, some reaction will still take place. Granted, it won't be a particularly efficient one, but a gamma ray burst at point-blank range is bound to do some damage." Astekis replied.

"I'm still not sure this whole system will work. Plus, it doesn't exactly inspire confidence when one stray shot can set off a couple gigatons worth of antimatter in tanks not even a hundred meters beneath my feet." Saren said, gesturing at the immense white antimatter containment systems currently being tugged into position for attachment to the cannon stabilization booms.

"Given how little armor this ship has, one stray shot anywhere will probably take out something vital. Thankfully, we have enough speed to compensate."

"Yet another reason as to why this ship eats enough antimatter to fuel a cruiser."

"I bet you'll stop complaining once it helps us dodge enemy gunfire."

"Maybe I will."

"That day will probably come sooner, rather than later. There aren't many relays between the invaders and Palaven any more."

Saren was quiet for a long moment as those words sank in. Finally, he voiced the fear that was doubtlessly on the mind of every Turian in the galaxy.

"Do you think Palaven will be able to hold?" He asked. Astekis gave him a long look, before shaking his head.

"No. If we had a few more months to prepare, to get our next generation of weapons out of the labs and into the field like this..." He trailed off, gesturing at the _Oreha._

"But no. We have days, weeks at most before the aliens are at the gates of Palaven, and all our R&D crews have to bolster our defenses are a few cruisers and dreadnoughts with glorified nuke launchers and one frigate with an experimental antimatter gun." He finished.

There wasn't much that Saren could say in response to that.

* * *

Luna Academy Auditorium Number One was by far the largest room that Zaeed had ever stood in. Millions of cadets stood all around, above and below him on the thousands of stacked seating decks that encircled the stage.

His squad had arrived early enough to secure seating low enough to not require a holographic display of the speaker, although still high enough to require speakers to amplify his voice.

Said speaker had just walked out onto the stage, the room falling silent as its occupants noticed his presence. Within a minute, the only sound in the immense room was that of breathing.

Then, the man cleared his throat and addressed the assembled cadets.

"Good afternoon. In the interests of time, I will keep this brief." He paused for a moment.

"Three million, two hundred and fourteen thousand, five hundred and forty-four. That is how many cadets are currently sitting in this auditorium, and how many individuals have been granted the chance of a lifetime. The best among you will graduate and join the ranks of the Earth First Regiment. While only a few thousand of you will be chosen, all of you have the potential to be a part of those thousand. We invite you to make the decision making process as difficult as possible." That got a few laughs out of the room.

"As many of you are already aware, all exercises will be performed in teams of eight. Many of you have already met your teammates, and many of you have not." Zaeed frowned. The other half of his training team had already left their assigned quarters by the time his squad had dropped off their belongings.

"This first week of training will be comprised of simulated combat scenarios. The second will be comprised of blind-entry team exercises. We expect all teams to put forth all possible effort towards succeeding in their assigned training." The man paused again, allowing the room a brief moment to process this information. Then, he spoke again.

"During these first two weeks, there are two ways you may be discharged from this program. The first is by simple failure. Should your team fail to meet the standards we place on you, your team will be discharged from the program. Whether it is an honorable or dishonorable discharge is dependent on the severity of your failure. Secondly, there is an individual discharge. There are three causes for this. The first is in the event of severe injury. The second is a dishonorable discharge for disgraceful individual conduct. Finally, you may request an individual discharge at any time... But I doubt any of you will want to do that." That caused Zaeed to chuckle. Nobody in this room was chosen for their tendency to take the easy way out.

"That said, should you do your best and prove yourselves to be the absolute pinnacle of what the human race has to offer, you have absolutely no reason to fear a discharge. I wish all of you the best of luck in the coming weeks. It cannot hurt to have it on your side. Dismissed!" Immediately, millions of cadets stood from their seats and began to leave the room.

"Come on! Let's try and beat our comrades to our room!" Zaeed shouted, leaping over his seat in an attempt to beat the pileup that would inevitably happen at the auditorium's exits. His squadmates followed his lead, and while they weren't quite able to beat the pileup, they managed to end up near the front of it and thus left the auditorium with minimum fuss.

Their quarters were still empty when they arrived.

"Good, we beat them here. Let's get our stuff unloaded." Zaeed ordered, and his squad rushed into action. He was thankful for Claudia's foresight, as the beds came with pillows but no blankets or sheets.

By the time the rest of their team arrived, four neatly made beds occupied the side closer to the restroom, while four unmade ones sat closer to the door.

When the door slid open, the four of them turned just in time to see a tall, red-haired boy enter the room. Behind him marched two brown-haired girls who must have been twins, judging by their identical heights and emotionless expressions. A blonde boy brought up the rear, an easygoing smile lighting up his face as he saw his new comrades.

"Hello! That was quite the speech, wasn't it?" He asked.

"I've heard better." Vido replied, extending his hand. The boy shook it.

"Jurgen Elmar. Nice to meet you." He introduced himself.

"Vido Santiago. The pleasure's all mine." Vido replied.

"Maria Stephanova, looking forward to working with you!" Maria introduced herself a moment later.

"Victor Harris." Victor said, voice soft.

"And I'm Zaeed Massani. We're in from Shanxi. What about you?" Zaeed finished, looking the rest of the new arrivals in the eye.

"Kristian Hansen. These two behind me are Trista and Sotka. We're all from Earth." The other boy introduced himself and his teammates.

"No last names?" Zaeed asked. This time, the girls spoke up.

"I am Trista, ward of the state, designation Volgograd-401-300."

"And I am Sotka, ward of the state, designation Volgograd-401-100."

They spoke in sequence, their voices having little inflection. Zaeed stifled his frown at the information. The two girls weren't just sisters, they were clones.

"It's nice to meet you all. Have you guys had dinner already? My squad arrived here pretty late, so we didn't get to eat before the speech." He finally said.

"Nah, we arrived early enough to have dinner beforehand. What held you guys up?" Kristian asked.

"We had to travel halfway around the moon on the trains from where they kept us." Zaeed replied.

"But why would... Oh, you must be from the colonies. I thought you guys were from the Shanxi development zone." Kristian said, an almost dismissive tone entering his voice.

"Nah, we're in from the frontier colony of Shanxi, left right after invasion season ended." Vido replied.

"Invasion season?" Trista, or was it Sotka, asked.

"Aliens invaded, but we kicked them off." Zaeed elaborated.

"So, you guys have combat experience?" Kristian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Zaeed replied.

"Good, then I don't have to worry about hauling your asses through the next few weeks." Kristian said. He smiled, evidently having tried to make a joke, but the effect was the exact opposite.

"Excuse me? What the hell was that for?" Maria exclained.

"Sorry, I was under the impression that the training facilities out in the colonies aren't as good as the ones on Earth. I was just worried that my squad-"

"Your squad? Who the hell said that this was your squad?" Vido demanded.

"I didn't see anyone else stepping forward to lead." Kristian replied.

"I am." Zaeed declared in response, stepping forward as he did so.

"And we can vouch for him." Maria added, stepping up to stand beside him. Vido and Victor followed suit a moment later.

"And my squad vouches for me." Kristian replied. Before he could move, however, Jurgen stepped between them, turning to face his squadmate.

"Look, let's not start fighting each other five minutes into training. How about this? Zaeed leads us through our first scenario, you lead us through our second, and we vote on a leader once everything is all said and done. That sound good?" He asked.

"Sounds good to me." Zaeed replied, extending his hand.

"Alright..." Kristian replied, taking it in his own.

"But, if it looks like you're screwing up, I'm taking command. I've not come this far just to have my chances ruined by bad leadership." He continued. The subsequent handshake was rather painful, but Zaeed thought he'd given as good as he'd taken.

"Dick." Victor muttered as they left for the nearest mess hall a minute later.

"You said it. The rest of them are alright though." Maria replied.

* * *

"Once again, I implore you to reconsider! The cannon has yet to be tested properly! We have no idea if any damage occurred during the installation process! Could catastrophically explode during first combat firing!" Simant's irate voice crackled through the bridge.

"And once again, no! We've been sitting in this cradle for days now, and the aliens have advanced up to the Sulerian Nebula! That means that we either have to get through the Doven system before it falls as well, or take the long route around through the Citadel! Our orders are to reach Palaven as fast as possible, and that means we cannot wait for you people to prepare a target drone for a test firing! Helm, take us out of here!" Astekis shouted in return.

"Understood!" The helmsman's voice was eager, and a moment later the _Oreha_ rocketed out of its cradle. Saren watched the ship circle around on the holomap, its helmsman setting a course for the Sur'kesh relay.

"Course plotted, maximum cruising speed reached." Astekis nodded at that report, before turning to Saren.

"Well, nothing for you to do now but to hurry up and wait." He said.

"True. At least this time, I have our STG friends to talk to." Astekis made a disgusted face at the mention of the STG.

"Pah! Give me a few good Turian marines over some glorified spies any day. I'm still not sure why you let them come aboard in the first place." He replied.

"They have their uses, and thanks to their presence, we now have contacts in Salarian intelligence. They're the best source of information in the galaxy, and they don't charge through the nose like the Shadow Broker." Saren replied as he headed for the elevator.

"I know. Still, I don't like the thought of them nosing around our ship. Keep an eye on them, alright?"

"Don't worry, I will." Saren said as he stepped into the elevator and headed down to meet with the newest members of the _Oreha_ 's ground team.

A total of three STG members had joined the ship's crew, that having been the prearranged number set by Turian and Salarian high commands.

"Ah! Greetings, SpecTRe Arterius! Was about to come and see you. There have been some... Issues in integrating my equipment with the ship's systems. VI seems to think I am installing illegal software... Well, I am, but I have a license to use it." Doctor Atlon Welano greeted him as he entered the observation room that the scientist had commandeered.

"Illegal software? I was under the impression that you were a doctor." Saren replied.

"Of course I am! Earned a doctorate in cyberwarfare studies at the University of Mannovai. STG career as hacking specialist was natural next step afterwards." Atlon replied. Saren sighed.

"Just what were you trying to install on my ship?" He asked.

"Nothing invasive, simply essential programs required to carry out my duty. Crypto-cracker VI design banned for being too effective at hacking into encrypted financial records, standard STG net portal officially banned to preserve secrecy of information, and augmented cyberdefense VI that seems to have insulted the unit currently installed on your vessel. It appears to... Strongly dislike your unit." Atlon answered.

"That's... What? I can understand the STG net portal, but a bank robber VI? And how can a cyberdefense VI dislike anything?" Saren exclaimed.

"I rarely used decryption VI for bank robbery... Sometimes necessary for depriving targets of financial assets, but otherwise primarily used for decrypting coded messages. As for dislike of ship's VI, my cyberdefense VI is... Special. Many customizations made over long service life. Expresses compatibility issues as dislike."

Saren weighed the advantages of the systems, before finally admitting defeat.

"Very well. I will use my SpecTRe override to authorize these installations. However, if I hear even one complaint about you stealing my crew's credits, I'm throwing your computers out the nearest airlock." He replied.

"Don't worry. If I were to commit such theft, crew would not even notice." The Salarian replied, smirking. Saren shook his head and left the room, heading for the armory. Inside, he found the other two members of the STG team.

"I trust that there have been no... Compatibility issues with your equipment?" Saren asked as he entered.

"Oh, no. Quite the opposite. There is plenty of room for all of it, and I had enough left over in my locker to help my partner with his." The first Salarian, Specialist Hersal Gabam, replied. Which made sense, considering how he was an infiltration specialist who had little use for bulky equipment. His partner, Specialist Munart Bilon, was the exact opposite, being a demolitions specialist.

"I trust the explosives have been properly stored away?" Saren asked.

"Of course! All safeties triple-checked and fuses stowed separately." Munart replied.

"Good. Is there anything else?"

"Negative, there have been no problems so far. We are ready to deploy on your orders, Commander Arterius." Hersal replied.

"Actually, Commander, I would like to request permission to inspect the vehicles you have in the hangar. We haven't had much of an opportunity to work with Turian-built equipment before, so some time to familiarize ourselves with them would be much appreciated." Munart interjected. Saren smiled at that.

"Permission granted. Should you desire, both vehicles have simulator software installed, although before using it on the shuttle I highly suggest asking the pilot's permission first." He replied.

"Thank you, Commander. If there is nothing else, we would like to head down to the hangar." Saren nodded at that, and the two Salarians left the room.

They may have been STG, but at least they weren't like Atlon. That meant that, unless they did something drastic, he could easily tolerate them.

With that in mind, Saren retreated to his quarters, and from there spent the rest of the day reading the latest news from the front.

* * *

"Commander, we are about to enter the Doven system. Yesterday's report said it was clear, but I've ordered all hands to battle stations nonetheless." Astekis reported as Saren entered the bridge.

"Good. Let's hope the system is still ours." He replied.

"Captain, we're about to hit the relay." Aplius reported.

"Do it. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"Understood."

A moment later, the ship shuddered slightly, and the exterior displays flashed white as the ship was catapulted through space.

"SHIT! HOSTILE CONTACTS!" Aplius' shout was unnecessary, as Saren could clearly see the dagger-shaped silhouettes of two alien ships appear barely a hundred meters away from the bridge's exterior display screens.

"Damn! Engine control, get our FTL drive ready! Emergency discharge! Helm, as soon as the drive is ready, jump to the relay! Until then, weapons free! Gunners, target the frigate on our port side!" The orders were shouted at a rapid pace, carrying over the sudden din on the bridge.

Saren could hear the ship's engines roar as additional fuel was dumped into the reaction chamber, accelerating the ship out of the way of the aliens' opening broadsides.

"Gunners, belay that order. Helm, get us behind that cruiser and keep us there! All guns, focus fire on the hostile cruiser!"

Saren fought to keep his footing as his vessel's inertial dampeners were strained past their limit by Aplius' subsequent turn, the ship's engines and maneuvering thrusters working in tandem to spin the ship around until its nose faced the engines of the alien cruiser. The nose gun battery opened fire a moment later, the six cannons firing in sequence to send a constant stream of tungsten downrange. At such a close distance, it was impossible to miss, and the slugs caused portions of the alien shield to visibly flash where they hit. Comparatively little fire flew back at them. Evidently, while the alien ships were able to focus immense amounts of firepower ahead, they lacked much in the way of rearward defenses, and what little return fire they were able to put out was not enough to wear through the ship's kinetic barriers.

Then, the floor beneath him swayed again as Aplius forced the ship into another evasive maneuver. Saren blinked as a blinding streak of white light passed just under the ship, another one passing just off the _Oreha'_ s bow a moment later.

"Gunners, lock on to the cruiser and fire all torpedoes! Now!"

Astekis' command was obeyed, and two seconds later the missiles began to stream from their box launchers. At this range, it was once again impossible to miss, and while blue beams of light cut several of the missiles out of the sky, most of them slammed into their target. For a moment, the rear of the alien cruiser glowed a bright blue-white as the disruptor torpedoes did their work.

"Their shield is down!" The missile operator reported, and Astekis grinned.

"Bridge to main cannon control. Fire on the alien cruiser." He ordered.

"Understood! Convergence set. Ferrofluid chambered... Antimatter pressure normal..." Simant's voice read through a pre-firing checklist.

"Fire, now!" Astekis screamed.

"Firing main cannon!"

A moment later, the ship shook as the main gun fired. Two bright streaks of light exited its barrel, one comprised of high-density ferrofluid while the other was pure anti-deuterium encased in a mass effect field. Before Saren could blink, the two streams slammed into the alien cruiser in a blinding flash of white light.

"Target destroyed! Alien cruiser kill confirmed!" The entire bridge cheered as a secondary explosion ripped alien vessel apart.

"Gunners, change target to nearest enemy frigate! Engines, how much longer until the FTL drive is ready?" Astekis shouted over the celebration.

"Emergency discharge is almost complete. One more minute." The reply came moments before a barrage of blue-green bolts slammed into the _Oreha'_ s port side.

"Kinetic barriers critical! One more salvo like that and we're dead!"

"I'm doing the best I can!" Aplius shouted in response. The _Oreha_ returned fire as he spoke, its secondary turrets tracking the alien frigate. A moment later, the alien ship passed within meters of its Turian counterpart, both ships' subsequent salvos falling behind their target.

"Main cannon ready!" Simant reported.

"Helm, bring us around and orient for a cannon shot on the far frigate. Main cannon, target the far frigate, fire when ready." Astekis ordered. Once again, the deck swayed as the helmsman forced the frigate into a spacefaring equivalent of a power slide, bringing its nose around to point at the more distant alien frigate. That ship had also come around, and its nose now pointed directly at the _Oreha._

"FIRE!"

A moment later, the twin cannon spoke again. There was a bright flash of light, and the aliens' own primary weapon was thrown off target, passing just twenty meters off the _Oreha_ 's starboard wing.

"Negative, target's shields held."

"Evasive maneuvers, now!" The frigate barely dodged the next incoming shot, turning around until its nose faced the exposed side of its nearest opponent.

"All guns, fire on near frigate!" Astekis ordered, and the ship's secondary batteries did just that, although much of the fire was evaded.

"FTL drive is up in thirty seconds!"

"Good. Deploy antimatter mine, thirty-five second fuse!"

"Done. Antimatter mine released."

"Main cannon ready!"

"Target near frigate. Fire when ready!"

The main gun fired again, but this time the twin streams went low, and a bright flash of light denoted where they had converged and reacted.

"Miss, negligible effect on target."

"Fifteen seconds!"

"Just a little more..." Saren prayed.

"Incoming! Hostile warships exiting FTL!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" A barrage of white bolts bracketed the _Oreha_ a moment later.

"Drive is ready!"

"Jump! Jump! Jumpjumpjumpjumpjump!" Astekis continued repeating the word even after the _Oreha_ had finished its FTL jump and the mass relay appeared on the viewscreens.

"Take us through, now!"

"Done!"

The screens flashed white again, and the _Oreha_ made the final jump to Palaven.

All was quiet on the bridge for a few long moments, before Saren finally spoke up.

"We... We won!" Even he couldn't believe the words he'd just spoken. Just a minute ago, the Oreha had entered an enemy controlled system, destroyed a cruiser, and jumped away without taking any real damage or sustaining any casualties among its crew.

"Helm, take us to Palaven." Astekis ordered.

"Yes sir!" The helmsman sounded exhausted, and Saren could sympathize.

"Attention all hands..." The captain's voice sounded out, both over the ship's intercom and from beside Saren. Astekis paused for a moment, likely considering his next words.

"Good work out there. That is all." He finally finished, somewhat lamely.

"That was a nice speech, Captain." Saren said, smiling.

"Thank you." Astekis replied, before returning his attention to the holomap as the _Oreha_ made its way back to Palaven.

* * *

 **A/N: Here it is! I had originally intended to get this chapter out before 2018, but it was unfortunately delayed. Of course, in addition to this chapter, some of you may have already noticed the little extra gift I posted yesterday, specifically The Human War: Tales from the Front. That little story will serve as a repository for any side stories that do not quite make it into the main narrative of THW. Side stories written by other authors will also be considered for addition to that repository, and anything in there will be considered THW Canon.**

 **Now that that's over with, on to my standard recap of this chapter. First and foremost, Saren now has his Normandy-equivalent. The Oreha is about the same size as the Normandy SR2, at least in terms of length, although it has twice the engine power of a normal Turian frigate compressed into a spaceframe with about two-thirds the displacement, making it an extremely agile ship. It also has an emission sink system like the Normandy, although given how that technology is still in its infancy, the system on the Oreha is significantly less efficient than that of the Normandy, and is much more vulnerable to technological malfunction.**

 **In terms of armament, the Oreha has six cannons taken from a cruiser's secondary armament fixed in its nose in an arrangement similar to that present in some WWII-era American attack aircraft such as the A-26B Invader, along with a more standard array of frigate-sized turreted guns, GARDIAN lasers, and missile batteries.**

 **Finally, there is the ship's main gun, which is what really sets this craft apart. The weapon is powered by its own secondary reactor, and possesses two barrels. The first fires a stream of high-density ferrofluid in a manner similar to the Thanix cannon, while the second fires a stream of antimatter. The two streams converge on the target ship after firing, and in the event of a miss they will react with each other to release a burst of energy near the target ship, which could potentially screw with its sensors and inflict minor shield damage. Should the cannon hit an unshielded target, however, the results are devastating as I showed with the space battle near the end. Thus, such a system is best used after another weapon, in this case the Oreha's entire missile supply, is used to strip the enemy's shields, opening them up for a single, lethal shot.**

 **Aside from that, I have finally moved Zaeed out of basic and into Earth First training, where he can become the special forces elite that we all knew he would become. While some teenage drama is to be expected (they are teenagers, after all!), I will keep it to an absolute minimum, while also sticking to my promise of no love triangles or romantic subplots while in the academy.**

 **As for the Earth First, I imagined it to be the THW equivalent of classic XCOM, being comprised of small, elite forces operating mostly independently throughout Human space. These small teams are expected to do the impossible, going up against immense odds and succeed, much like the original XCOM did (both ingame and in THW canon).**

 **With that said, I believe I've said everything necessary. I hope you all enjoy this latest update to The Human War.**


	12. Chapter 10: Palaven

**A/N: Apologies for the delay. This chapter has undergone a LOT of changes since I first began planning the Battle of Palaven nearly a year ago. However, those sorts of things will be discussed in the after-story note, so now, without any further ado, on with the show!**

* * *

 _"Palaven was the crucible where the modern Turian military was forged. It was there that we told the horrors of the galaxy that the Turian Hierarchy will not die quietly, and that we will not be broken by the depredations of alien invaders. At Palaven, the Hierarchy declared that it too had a right to exist in this galaxy! Now, we must uphold that right again."_ \- Excerpt from Primarch Adrien Victus' first address of the Hierarchy, 2185.

 **Chapter 10: Palaven**

"Admiral, the fleet is assembled. We are ready to proceed on your order." Drescher looked up from her datapad as her XO spoke.

"Thank you." She replied, before taking a sip of her coffee. The brew was a rare luxury on ships, but scoring victory after victory had its perks.

Returning her attention to the datapad, she continued to look over the real-time map of the alien system. Judging by how the aliens had fought thus far, she expected them to park their fleet behind the relay's entry zone, giving them a few free shots while her own forces swung themselves around to bring their guns to bear. Against one of their own fleets, such a tactic would be devastating, especially considering how their FTL drives were unable to micro-jump for a few minutes after relay transition.

However, Drescher's fleet had no such issues, and with such an accurate map of the alien system, they would be able to program in an evasive jump immediately after relay transition. Barring a drive malfunction, the fleet would be able to leapfrog their enemy and take up position outside of their spinal guns' firing arcs before the aliens' first volley could travel the target distance. Speaking of which...

"How are our FTL drives doing?" Drescher asked.

"The fleet is reporting at least three jump capacitors charged across all ships... Well, all ships except for the mine decoys." Perfect, that meant that her fleet would be able to make three jumps immediately upon entering the system. Looking over the system map, she thought for a moment before selecting an area approximately twenty light days away from the system's sun. That would be a perfect rendezvous point for her fleet to regroup at once it had fully entered the system. She nodded to herself, before transmitting the data to the rest of her fleet. Within seconds, the entire fleet reported that the jump destination had been programmed in.

"Good. Commence atmospheric evacuation and tell Abraham to be ready with the mine clearers. We commence the operation in one hour." Drescher replied, before donning her vac-suit's helmet. Kurt sent the messages and did the same, moments before the atmosphere evacuation alarms started blaring.

The minutes flew by quickly, and soon the air began to hiss out of the room. Drescher barely noticed the sound, being too preoccupied with the system map.

Then, another set of alarms began to scream, causing her to look up. They sounded for a few moments, before falling silent.

"Another suicide scout?" She asked. Kurt looked over his own datapad and nodded.

"Another suicide scout. Let's hope it didn't manage to send off a message before we took it out." He muttered.

"Considering how they've been sending them one by one, and in regular intervals, I believe that it did. They probably have at least one image of our fleet, for all the good it will do them." Drescher replied. Kurt sighed at that, and shook his head.

"At the most, I'd say that the most they know is an exact number of our ships, and even that's pushing it. It should not be a problem." Drescher continued.

"Understood..." Kurt trailed off. By then, the atmosphere had completely drained from the room, his voice only audible over suit comms. A quick glance at the bottom of her HUD told Drescher that he had just switched to a private channel. That was certainly unusual.

"Is something wrong?" She asked after a few moments.

"I... No. Nothing is wrong." He replied.

"Are you sure?" Kurt sighed at that, but almost a minute passed before he spoke again.

"I... Are we doing the right thing?" He finally asked.

"Of course we are. I don't think we've gone against our orders, at least!" Drescher replied. She tried to sound upbeat, hoping that it would convince her XO to drop the subject then and there. However, Kurt just shook his head.

"It's not that... In a few minutes, we'll be entering the Turians' home system, and we both know that our job is to subjugate it, destroy its defenses, and pave the way for the Snakes to start cultural reconstruction efforts." He paused for a moment, his tinted helmet making it impossible to see his face.

"And?" Drescher asked. Her voice now held an undercurrent of steel, but she gestured for her XO to continue. The gesture must have emboldened him, because he pushed ahead with his honest opinion.

"And that's exactly what the Ethereals tried to do to us. They came in, destroyed our military and government, and then did their damnedest to reprogram our culture into that of servitude. That's what we're fighting against, right? So why are we doing it too?" Drescher held up a hand before her XO could continue.

"I suggest you choose your next few words with exceptional care, Commander. We are not the Ethereals, and we never will be." She replied, her voice harsh.

Kurt nodded in response, although he remained silent. Drescher smiled slightly beneath her helmet, before continuing.

"Moreover, what we are doing is ultimately for the best. These aliens are extraordinarily lucky to have lasted this long, and it is better to bring them under our protection so that the Ethereals cannot get to them." She finished.

"But-" Kurt caught himself before continuing, but Drescher knew that he had seen through her words. After all, her fleet and the regiments it was escorting had not done much protecting.

"Plus, we have our orders. It is our duty to carry them out, and if it means invading the Turian homeworld, so be it." Drescher finished. Kurt was silent for a few moments, before nodding.

"Yes ma'am." He saluted.

"Good. Report to the bridge, I will arrive there shortly." Drescher ordered. However, before Kurt could turn to leave, she held up her hand and tapped the side of her helmet, where the suit's voice recording data was stored. Kurt got the message and nodded, before leaving the room. That left Drescher alone with her half-filled coffee mug, which was now boiling in the vacuum. Sighing, she snapped the mug's lid shut and stood, before starting to pace.

Kurt's words had struck close to home, she mused. Had this been an Ethereal slave race, surrounding the world, bombarding its surface until it glowed, and then landing troops to clear out any remaining holdouts would have been simple euthanasia, but here? She knew that the successful completion of the Palaven operation would mean the deaths of billions of Turians, a people whom, judging by interrogation reports, were not aware that the Ethereals even existed.

A look at her HUD's clock told her that the operation was commencing in just a few minutes. A treacherous voice in her mind told her that those few minutes were time enough to call off the operation. Was this one system really so important to Operation Sally Port as to make its capture necessary? She shook her head at that idea.

No, even if the system was unnecessary for Sally Port, its capture was still necessary. She had seen the Turians fight, both in space and on the ground, against overwhelming odds and severely outclassed. In a way, their stubbornness and unwillingness to take the easy path of surrender reminded her of history class, where the old instructors would spend hours lecturing her about 'The Unbreakable Human Spirit' and how it was her generation's duty to continue the fight that her ancestors started. Her ancestors fought on, just like the Turians, and it was only thanks to them that she was alive.

However, that made the Turians dangerous. It was for the best that they be brought into the Human sphere of influence, lest they have the opportunity to advance technologically and wage a second, less convenient war at a later date. She nodded to herself and picked up her datapad, before proceeding to the bridge. The rest of the officers were all at their stations, and she returned their salutes as she took up her position above the system map.

Opening a fleet-wide communications channel, she composed herself and prepared to address her forces.

"On the other side of this relay is the homeworld of the Turian race. As such, they have massed everything they have in its defense. We are about to enter a battle unlike any other we have faced before. These aliens have nowhere to run now, and as such will throw everything they have at us. We must be ready to counter any and every weapon in their arsenal." She took a short breath at that, before continuing.

"However, no matter what the enemy sends at us, we have a duty that we must accomplish. Nothing will stop XCOM and Humanity in our march towards a better future. The Ethereals tried to do so and failed. These aliens will not be any different. That is all." She finished, before cutting the channel.

"Abraham." She ordered, and the AI shimmered into being a moment later, its avatar saluting her.

"Commence the operation." She ordered, and the AI nodded.

"Yes ma'am." The hologram faded.

Drescher had found out very early on that the Turians often mined the relay exit zones in systems that they believed to be under threat, and clearing the minefields was a time-consuming task that normally involved firing hundreds of fusion warheads through the mass relay and crossing one's fingers. However, recent events had given Drescher an alternative solution.

In front of her fleet were hundreds of ships drawn from the now-defunct Quarian Migrant Fleet, converted to autonomous target drones and all slaved to Abraham's control. These ships had been deemed unsalvageable by Human inspectors, and now that the Quarians had been successfully resettled, it was a trivial matter to acquire them for the purpose of clearing minefields.

Now, those hundreds of ships began to simultaneously move towards the mass relay, their only purpose now being to absorb as many mines as possible on the other side.

* * *

Alarms blared upon the bridge of the _Barcia's Vengeance_ as its sensors picked up unidentified contacts.

"Contacts! I'm reading... Three hundred-odd contacts just passed through the relay! The minefield..." The sensors officer trailed off, causing General Keras to glance sharply in his direction. Before he could speak, however, the officer continued.

"Impossible... Those are Quarian ships!" He exclaimed, moments before the system map began to flash as mine after mine detonated. Within seconds, thousands of fusion and antimatter warheads went off, releasing enough energy to cook any crew that may have been manning those ships, whilst reducing the vessels to glowing wrecks.

"All contacts reported destroyed." The officer reported a moment later.

"Contact Menae and sound the alarm. Expect the enemy to arrive at any moment now that the minefield is clear." Keras ordered.

"Understood... Incoming, from Second Anvil. They're warning us to stay on our guard." Keras chuckled at that.

"Tell Anvil Second to keep their eyes on their sensors. We don't know where the enemy will jump to once they enter the system." He replied.

"Understood." The comms officer replied. A few seconds passed, before he spoke up again.

"Response from Menae. They're launching everything now... Including the special unit." Keras' fist clenched at that particular name.

"Are they so eager to throw our pilots' lives away that they have them launching now?" He muttered. The officer did not reply.

"Get our own fighter compliment readied on the catapults, but do not launch until we jump into close quarters." He ordered a moment later.

"Understood." An alarm began to blare as the flight deck commander spoke those words, calling all fighter pilots to their craft.

"You think this is it?" He heard one of his officers ask another.

"The minefield is gone, so-" The response was cut off as the Sensors officer told the bridge what they had all been waiting for.

"More contacts! They're jumping in!"

"Engage!" Barely a second after he gave the order, his vessel shook as its main gun fired. However, before the opening volley could reach its target, the alien ships jumped away.

"They've jumped! Notify Anvil Second!" Keras shouted.

"Done!" A few seconds later, the Anvil Second task force jumped in on top of the alien fleet, all guns blazing.

"Hold off on jumping for now, I'm-" Before he could finish his thoughts, the alien fleet jumped again.

"Locate them! Notify Anvil Third!" He shouted.

"They're below us! Distance... Fifteen light seconds!"

"Anvil Third, jumping in!"

The task of the Anvil forces was simple: Using precise micro-FTL jumps, they were to close the distance with the enemy and engage, tying them down at ranges where their devastating main guns could not be brought to bear as easily against the more agile Turian ships. Keras himself was in charge of Anvil First, and from his position behind the relay entry zone he was now observing the fight from a relatively safe distance.

"Menae Command to Anvil First, stay in reserve for now. You are-" The voice was cut off, just as the sensors officer cried out again.

"More contacts coming through the relay!"

"Anvil First, engage the second enemy force!" However, before Keras could give the order to fire, the alien force jumped away again.

"They're behind us! One light second!"

"Jump, now!" The helmsman had barely managed to start carrying out the order before the first alien volley hit home, one shot passing within several meters of the _Vengeance_ 's starboard wing. Keras tuned out the sudden influx of casualty reports as the rest of his fleet momentarily entered FTL, exiting just beneath the alien fleet.

"Fire all torpedoes! I don't want one more ship to go down with munitions onboard! Launch all fighters!" He shouted as his dreadnought's main gun fired, striking an alien cruiser dead center.

"Locked on, firing!" That shot was followed up by a barrage of nearly a hundred fusion torpedoes. However, even before the barrage had finished leaving the launch tubes, alien point defense weapons were already sweeping them away.

They could not, however, stop the second shot from the main gun or the first salvo of secondary weapons fire.

A moment later, kinetic barriers flashed as alien weapons fire washed over them.

"We're under fire from three cruisers! Bearings-" As the sensors officer spoke, another volley of missile fire was released, and the ship's guns fired again. Once upon a time, those guns had possessed regulators on their power supplies that allowed them to withstand decades of use with comparatively little maintenance. Those had been the first to go, followed by the safety alarms for said regulators. Now, the gun barrels were undoubtedly starting to glow as they traded fire with their targets.

"Barriers are about to fail!" The damage control officer barely got his words out before the next alien barrage slammed home, overwhelming the dreadnought's taxed kinetic barriers. The ship shook as the rest of the volley hit home.

"Damage minor. Reactive plate coverage on sections fifteen, nineteen and three has been reduced. Ablative screens are holding." The report came in.

While frigates were small and nimble enough that speed could replace their armor, larger ships like dreadnoughts and cruisers were not so fortunate. Even if all their armor plate was stripped off, they would still be large, slow targets for alien gunners. Thus, a new approach to armor protection designed specifically to defend against alien secondary weapons was put into practice, and with it being the newest dreadnought of the Turian navy, the _Barcia's Vengeance_ was able to reap the full rewards of such a system. Instead of thick, kinetic-resistant plate, the ship was armored with several layers of heat-resistant ceramic and ablative material designed to vaporize into space when struck by alien weaponry. In addition to this, the _Vengeance,_ along with many other older ships in the Turian navy, had been equipped with special reactive armor, designed to vaporize and explode away from the ship when hit, thus completely nullifying the effect of an alien plasma barrage. The reactive bricks were also very easy to install and replace, meaning that most ships at and above cruiser weight were covered in them.

Thus, aside from the few unlucky vessels that had jumped in front of the Aliens' main guns, the rest of his fleet was intact.

"Shields down on alien light cruiser, port side!" The sensors officer called out.

"Secondaries, focus fire!" Immediately, every secondary gun on the dreadnought swung around and opened fire, punching deep holes into the alien armor. One must have hit somewhere important, as the ship suddenly slewed hard away from its attacker, immense plumes of atmospheric gas exploding from its punctured side. Its return volley still hit home, however, and the _Vengeance_ shuddered once again as reactive charges went off all along its hull.

"More contacts at the relay! Anvil Second is on them!" The alert rang out just as the main gun fired once more, but moments after the shell struck home, the alien ships jumped away, save for a few crippled vessels.

"They've... Wait... All alien ships have jumped away. Repeat, all alien ships have disengaged. Location unknown." The officer reported.

"Casualty report!" Keras demanded as one final volley was pumped into the crippled alien cruiser, which exploded a moment later.

"The first volley took out three heavy cruisers, thirteen light cruisers, and four frigates. Total casualties are six heavies, nineteen lights, and twenty-three frigates... We're lucky that they jumped away when they did, some of their frigates were already bringing their main guns to bear. We've lost our entire fighter wing as well, they barely got out of the hangar before those damn guns mowed them down." His fist clenched at the report.

"And how many did we kill?" He asked.

"At the moment... Two heavy cruisers, one light, and six frigates." He hid his shock at that. Compared to the one-sided slaughters of prior battles, this was a much closer casualty exchange. He nodded at that.

"Incoming orders from Menae. We are to fall back to marshal point one."

"Understood. Helm, jump to marshal point one." A few moments passed, and the ships jumped away, covering five light hours in a few seconds. They exited FTL between Menae and Palaven, joined by thousands of other ships from the other forces within the system.

"Extend radiators. I don't think an attack is coming in the immediate future... Also, I want maintenance crews to look over our guns and damage control to start replacing spent reactive armor." Keras ordered after a few seconds passed with no alien warships jumping in. His crew quickly got to work, doing whatever they could to ensure that the ship would be in better shape when it came time to engage the enemy again.

"Now we wait." He muttered to himself. Initial containment of the enemy at the relay had failed, and the Aliens were now loose in the system. Now, all that remained was to wait for the enemy to strike at Palaven, and in doing so, bring themselves into range of the immense gun emplacements on the surface of Menae and Nanus.

* * *

Drescher frowned as she read over the casualty reports for the engagements that had taken place during her fleet's entry into the system. The Turians had learned, that much was certain.

While the first two vanguard forces had managed to tie up the alien defense fleets well enough to ensure that her carriers and logistical fleet could jump in unmolested, the casualties they had suffered had already been greater than expected, even taking into account the fact that they were outnumbered three to one. The Turians had innovated, upgrading their ships to be more resistant to plasma fire, whilst devising tactics intended to counter the immense range of fusion lances. Granted, the tactic of jumping under her fleet's guns only worked due to their unusual FTL drives being completely unaffected by her fleet's interdiction fields, but until an appropriate countermeasure was devised, her fleet was going to have to get used to close-range brawls against numerically superior opponents.

However, her fleet still held one immense advantage over the Turians, one that could not simply be mitigated by pinpoint FTL jumps and slapping on a few bricks of reactive armor, and that was her carriers. The Turians had no counterpart, and what few fighters they did use were woefully outclassed in every aspect. Their non-fighter based defenses were similarly inadequate. Their small-caliber guns lacked the muzzle velocity to effectively engage her strike craft, and their lasers were laughably under-powered for the task at hand.

So long as she could provide her strike craft with munitions they would effectively have free reign over the system, and her task force was very well supplied, with hundreds of transports with holds full of anti-ship and anti-surface munitions having made the jump alongside her carriers.

With that in mind, she began to plan her next move. The alien fleet had made no attempt to pursue after her jump to the rendezvous point, and considering how far they were from their planet, the Turians likely didn't have any clue of where she was. With her fleet already in the system there was no longer much point for the aliens to guard the relay, although she would wager that there was at least one enemy fleet still posted there, just in case. She made a mental note to send out a frigate to quickly check the area in a few minutes, once the light from the battle's aftermath had traveled enough distance that detecting it no longer held the risk of instant reprisal.

Aside from the relay garrison, she would wager that the rest of the Turian forces had pulled back to their homeworld, where they would have the support of planet and moon-based gun batteries and fighter bases. Those batteries would be the first targets for her strike craft, but before she would be able to launch those strikes, she would first have to blind the enemy.

The Turians weren't stupid. Yes, they lacked the deep space detection networks of human systems, which allowed her fleet to hide behind the light-speed barrier like they did, but inside the system proper they had scattered thousands of sensor buoys. If even one such buoy detected her fleet, she would have every single alien ship in the system jumping in on top of her before she would be able to launch her strike craft.

Thus, those buoys had to go. Unfortunately, taking them out would not be an easy task. Designed to be stealthy, the buoys relied on passive sensors to detect their targets and possessed immense internal heat sinks that reduced the need for noticeable radiators. However, there was one hole in their stealth system, which came in the form of their need to communicate with their owners back on Palaven. Analysis of captured buoys had shown that, upon detection of any contact would result in an immediate transmission to their system command.

That meant that taking a buoy out was as simple as allowing it to detect its hunter, detecting its transmission and taking aim. Of course, with the sheer amount of buoys present in the system, clearing them all out would be an immense undertaking. Fortunately for her, she would not have to clear them all out, merely create a large enough blind zone for her carriers to launch and recover fighters without issue.

Judging by the buoy distributions of previously conquered Turian systems, the Turians preferred to concentrate most of their buoys in the system proper. They were rarely placed more than six light hours out from the system's sun, and at that range the network was very sparsely distributed. If that fringe of sparsely distributed buoys could trimmed down, it would create an immense zone where she could launch and recover strike craft without worry of premature detection. It would be a week-long round trip for the fighter pilots, but the result would be a devastating strike against Turian forces that would be almost impossible to retaliate against, and she could continue to launch such strikes for months before supplies became an issue.

Nodding to herself, she marked out the zones to be cleared, before ordering several squadrons of stealth destroyers to carry out the task. However, until that task was finished, the rest of her force could do little but wait.

* * *

Keras sighed in disappointment as another force of frigate scouts made their report, having jumped away to the location of another destroyed buoy only to find nothing there.

The pattern had been going on for several days now. A deep-space buoy would be destroyed, a response team would arrive on the scene, and then return to Menae empty-handed. The Generals on Menae were at their wits' end trying to figure out just what the Aliens were trying to do. When they first started taking down the buoys, they had believed that the Aliens were attempting to create a blind spot in their sensor network to launch an attack from, but that theory had been discarded when they made no attempt to strike at buoys closer to the inner system.

"I have a bad feeling about all this." His sensors officer gave voice to his own thoughts. The Aliens were definitely planning something, but so long as nobody knew what it was, nobody could counter it!

"Repair crews have just come in from Menae. They are requesting permission to come aboard." The communications officer reported.

"Permission granted." Keras replied. That was some good news, at least.

The scientists who came up with the ablative armor on his dreadnought had really outdone themselves, he mused. The alien weapons fire had carved deep gouges into several patches of hull where previous salvoes had stripped away reactive plates, resulting in the kind of damage would have required older, anti-kinetic plates to be replaced entirely in a days-long process. However, the ablative material was different, and could simply be poured into the damaged hull segments like concrete, before being set into place with a quick chemical treatment. Damage that used to take several days in drydock to be repaired could now be fixed in a matter of hours while underway.

The hardest part was replacing the attachment points for the reactive plates. While they were designed to withstand the force of the plate going off on tip of them, they would be effortlessly vaporized by any sort of follow-up fire.

However, the engineers being sent out at all was a sign that the leadership on Menae was confident that the Aliens would not attack any time soon. It seemed as though days of fruitlessly chasing shadows on the outer rim of the system with no sign of the enemy fleet itself had finally convinced them to start repair rotations for damaged ships. Now, it was finally his ship's turn to have its wounds patched up, the _Vengeance_ having been given low priority thanks to its status as a dreadnought.

He found it strangely funny how quickly attitudes towards dreadnoughts had changed after the outbreak of hostilities. Before the invasion, dreadnoughts had been considered the pinnacle of military power. Now though, many Generals had come to see them as expensive targets, and Keras could understand their reasoning. After all, fighting at standoff ranges against the invaders was suicide, and in a close-quarters brawl a dreadnought just wasn't as good as a cruiser squadron. Not to mention how its size drew a disproportionately large amount of fire.

Repairs to the armor plating and attachment points were quickly finished, and the replacement of the actual reactive plates were underway by the time Keras retired to his quarters to catch a few precious hours of sleep.

He would be woken by the sound of alarms the following morning.

* * *

"All strike wings are reporting as ready to launch. All launch bays are queued up and ready." Kurt reported.

"Perfect. Signal the fleet, it's time to jump." Drescher ordered.

The fleet jumped in unison a few seconds later, exiting FTL above the ecliptic. Much to her delight, the Turians had gotten lax with their buoy placement above and below their planet's orbital plane, allowing her fleet to close to within four light hours of their homeworld and still have almost an hour of leeway to launch strike craft before detection was expected.

The first strike group began to launch a few moments later. They would act as a probing attack, intended to gauge the enemy's response to carrier strikes, scout out any targets of interest within the system, and destroy any sensor buoys along their flight path. Follow-up strikes would be launched once more information was known, and Drescher planned for an eventual frequency of one strike per day.

However, the presence of inner-system sensor buoys would mean that the enemy would have several days of advance warning before the first wave could reach its target, and even once those were destroyed they would still have plenty of time to react.

The launches had been finished long before the estimated detection time arrived, and with the first wave away, the rest of the fleet jumped away to another set of hidden deep space coordinates. However, the most dangerous part of the operation was still to come. Come next week, they would have to recover those same craft, which would undoubtedly be tracked and pursued. When combined with recovery operations taking much longer to complete than launches, there was a real chance that her carriers could be caught by a pursuing enemy fleet when they were unable to jump away.

Her destroyers would continue to trim away the alien buoys, but they could not focus excessively on the ones nearest to the recovery zone for fear of cluing the enemy fleet in on her operation. In the end, the best she could do was keep her fleet on standby in the event of the worst coming to pass.

* * *

"What's the situation?" Keras demanded as he strode onto the bridge, uniform rumpled from having just woken up.

"We're not quite sure, but we've detected an incoming attack coming in from above the ecliptic. Menae thinks a long-range cruise missile strike of some sort, but they've launched it from an awfully long range... ETA is in just over two days." The communications officer replied.

"What are our orders? Do we jump to intercept?" Keras asked. That had been the go-to solution for when the Krogan tried similar tactics. Then again, in order to avoid friendly fire the Krogan had programmed their missiles to not engage targets outside of a designated zone of space. Considering how much more advanced this alien race was, he wouldn't put it past them to have some sort of advanced VI system to prevent such a tactic from working.

"Negative, Menae wants us to shelter the fleet. Atomic cruisers and other special units are to seek shelter in armored surface berths. Frigates are to enter Palaven's atmosphere and hide on the surface. All other ships are to hold position and jump away to low Aventen orbit and use the planet as cover." The comms officer replied.

"Understood. Relay the hide order to the frigates. We don't have any special ships in our force, so have the rest of the fleet make ready to jump to Aventen when the time comes." Keras replied.

He considered this latest development as the orders went out. All previous battles against the Aliens had quickly turned into either standoff range massacres or close quarters gunfights, so this new behavior of staying hidden whilst picking away at the fringes of the system's sensor grid and launching extreme-range missile strikes was completely new. Then again, he supposed that this was the first time the Aliens had encountered so many Turians in one system, and it made sense for them to try to soften up their targets before attempting another fleet engagement.

However, it didn't make much sense for them to launch missiles from so far away where they would be noticed several days in advance. It would have made much more sense for the Aliens to jump into close quarters, fire, and then jump away before any meaningful response could be formulated. Instead, they had given the Turians two days of advance warning, and thus allowing them to hide their fleet. The knowledge that the Aliens probably knew this and did so anyway made Keras uneasy. He spent the next few hours staring intently at the system map, tracking the marker representing the alien missiles as it slowly came closer and closer.

When the time came his remaining fleet jumped away to Aventen, and Keras half expected the alien fleet to be waiting for him there. The hours began to tick by, the entire fleet on alert for an alien fleet that never came. His eyes remained glued to the system map, watching as the alien missiles approached Palaven in a loose formation before splitting up, evidently having acquired their targets. Seconds later, the first orbital stations began reporting hits, and Keras realized that these were not missiles at all, but rather incredibly advanced fighters. Leave it to the Aliens to take a vehicle only truly useful for scouting and ground support and turn it into a devastating swarm of incredibly fast death machines that were now wreaking havoc in Palaven's orbit.

Hours passed and the Aliens retreated, accelerating away towards the system's rim. However, the order to return to Palaven did not come. Nor did any other transmission from Menae, for that matter. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his communications officer gave him the grim news.

"General, Menae just got their comms back up and it sounds like the command bunker's been hit. They're having search and rescue crews going through it now, but they're assuming the worst."

Keras blinked at that. Wasn't the bunker hidden beneath several hundred meters of lunar rock and protected by a kinetic barrier? Then the rest of the news hit him. If the generals in overall command of the operation were all dead, then that meant one of the generals of the fleet would assume command in accordance with the chain of succession... And as it turned out, that general was him.

"Very well. Contact the rest of the fleets and tell them that I am assuming provisional command until the situation on Menae has been resolved." He ordered.

"Understood, sir... Incoming transmission from General Perterin, Anvil Second. He's requesting permission to pursue and intercept the alien fighters."

"Denied. The damn things move too fast for our ships to catch, and the fact that all the guns on Menae weren't able to inflict a single casualty means that pursuit would only put our ships at risk. Instead, I want a frigate task force to shadow them as they leave. Hopefully we will be able to determine the enemy fleet's location when they move to recover them. All other ships are to jump back to Palaven and take up a defensive position around Menae." He ordered.

Upon returning to Palaven, he ordered his own fleet to begin begin search and rescue operations, while the rest of the fleets screened him. The alien fighters had devastated this particular section of Palaven orbit, and his frigates had to navigate a slowly growing field of glowing debris as they ascended from Palaven's surface. Shuttles from Menae were already swarming all around the moon, navigating radioactive tritium clouds released by breached fusion reactors as they attempted to recover survivors stranded in orbit. Keras couldn't help but shudder at the thought. It was one thing to die of explosive decompression when his ship was hit, but to drift alone in a spacesuit for hours until the oxygen ran out was a nightmare no sailor wanted to experience.

Other shuttles were staying low, evacuating survivors from burning facilities on the moon itself, pulling as many out as possible before the artificial atmosphere containment fields were disabled in order to prevent the spread of fires.

"General, incoming transmission from Nanus. They're asking what to do with their fighter wings now that Menae's been hit." He pondered the issue for a moment. Menae had launched its own fighter wings once the true nature of the alien strike became clear, but they had been completely wiped out without inflicting any losses in return.

"Tell them to get them all into shelters and to load every fighter they have for anti-ship combat, including those normally reserved for escort and patrol duty." He ordered.

"Understood."

"General, I'm picking up nearby distress beacons." The sensors officer spoke up.

"Good work. Helm, take us to them, nice and slow. Security, I want our marine compliment to suit up for EVA and stand by to recover-" Keras' orders were cut off as a new set of blips appeared on the edge of the system map.

"Second wave of attack incoming!" The sensors officer exclaimed, and Keras cursed.

"What is their ETA?" He demanded.

"Three days."

"Then we still have some time. We will continue with rescue and damage control operations for now. I also want a report on the status of the Menae ship shelters to be sent to me as soon as possible."

"Understood."

Keras tried not to show his nervousness as his latest orders were sent out. His probably-dead superiors had planned to swamp the enemy with sheer numbers in a close-quarters gunfight, but that strategy could not be applied against an enemy that hid in deep space and struck with fighters while staying outside of effective sensor range. His superiors had envisioned a battle, and he was now stuck in a siege with no ability to fight back.

That night, he found himself reading through historical records of ancient battles, trying desperately to search for a way out of the predicament he had found himself in. Hiding in deep space around a system was a common trick, used by everyone, from pirates to his own people. With sensors limited by the light-speed barrier, it made them effectively invisible, although unless they wanted to risk placing sensors into the system they were targeting, that invisibility worked both ways. In addition, the only way to engage while using such tactics was through extreme range cruise missile strikes, which would be easily spotted days in advance and could thus be countered at the defender's leisure.

Fighters, on the other hand, were considered by the Council races to be rather useless unless deployed in prohibitively large numbers. It was easier to just fire a torpedo at a target than launch a fighter carrying a torpedo at it, and frigates could perform reconnaissance for the fleet without risking immediate destruction.

The only use most Council races had seen for fighter craft was as ground support, where they excelled. The one exception had been the Quarians before the Geth uprising, who had designed immense, dreadnought sized drone motherships capable of housing hundreds of expendable attack drones. Somewhat ironically, the efficacy of those designs was proven against the Quarians' own navy, as the Geth were able to hijack those ships and their drone compliment with few issues. However, those drones were piloted by Geth, which were neither held back by organic reflex limitations, nor required an extensive training program, meaning that after the blanket ban on AI research, it became impractical to create a similarly effective carrier manned by organic pilots or dumb VIs.

The only other race stated to use similar ship designs was the Rachni. While the Hierarchy never participated in the Rachni Wars, the battles of those wars had still been studied in Turian military academies. The Rachni had been fond of deploying immense swarms of expendable drones in battle, which would act as a combination of fighter and suicide bomber. While their effectiveness was extremely low, their disregard for their own lives coupled with sheer numbers made them almost impossible to counter until the invention of the GARDIAN laser array.

However, these Aliens were different. While the Rachni and Quarians deployed massive fighter swarms in support of their main fleets, the Aliens were using fighters as their primary attack method. Where Quarian and Rachni drones were intended to draw fire and finish off weakened targets, the Aliens used them to engage in standoff warfare at unprecedented range. When the Aliens were shooting at him with guns he could at least see them and jump in close to shoot them back, but now he couldn't even see them in time to make a difference.

He eventually fell asleep, still unable to figure out a solution to the problem that had been thrust upon him.

Three days later, the next wave of fighters struck at Menae again, destroying the subterranean ship shelters, although the ships that had originally been sheltered within them had managed to hide away with the rest of the fleet. The navy emerged unscathed, but the situation on Menae was becoming more and more dire. Even worse, where they had several days to recover from the first wave, they were given less than a day before the third wave came in on the heels of the second, and the fourth came in a day later.

The situation seemed hopeless.

* * *

Councilor Barakis weaved his way through protesters and counter-protesters in the Presidium with expert ease. On one side, blue-skinned faces screamed at him to end the pointless war with the alien aggressors, and that 'National Pride was not worth the deaths of billions'. When they had first started gathering outside of the Presidium, he had attempted to reason with them, telling them that the Turian Hierarchy was not the aggressor and that once the invaders were done with the Hierarchy, they would turn on the Asari Republics next. He realized his mistake a few hours later, when his face appeared on an Asari tabloid with a headline calling him the Turians' own worst enemy, along with a less than flattering companion article. Nowadays, he just tuned them out.

On the other side, another sea of blue-skinned faces cheered in support of him, shouting that they too stood in support of the Hierarchy, and that come election day, they will make their voices known. He ignored them as well, knowing that if they really stood with Palaven, they would prefer that he get actual work done and not waste time on pointless interviews. Still, this crowd was easier to pass through, and the Asari there did not pose quite as much of a security risk. He made it through without issue, but even before he entered the Presidium elevator, the first handbags and stones were flying. He began mentally counting down, 'One... Two... Three... Four... Fi-"

At the five second mark, the first Asari glowed purple and rocketed across the divide between the two crowds. The day's scheduled Presidium violence began two seconds earlier than it had the previous day. Judging by how the nearby C-Sec officers seemed to be taking their time in addressing the issue, the second group seemed to be winning. They would move in before anyone got seriously hurt, but they tended to act a lot faster when the first group was on the winning side. They were Turian, after all.

He shook his head as the elevator began its slow journey towards the Council chamber. How the Asari could even survive, let alone remain a premier galactic power, when their government was beholden to the wishes of such fickle rabble in glorified popularity contests was beyond him. In the Hierarchy, everyone had their position for a reason, and everyone knew it. Popularity was important, but only as an indication of a leader's charisma, and that was only one component of a true, ideal meritocracy.

Yes, democracy was overrated, he mused as the elevator came to a stop. The strobing flashes of cameras greeted him as he walked into the Council chamber, the swarm of reporters parting as he made his way up to where the other two councilors were already waiting.

"Really Barakis, I keep telling you to set your alarm a bit earlier! I swear, the mobs outside get harder to pass through every day!" Verlin murmured her greetings to him as he came to stand beside her.

"Good morning to you too, Verlin." He responded, before inspecting the room. On holographic screens around the chamber, the latest publicly available footage from Palaven was playing, depicting yet another fighter strike on Menae. The Siege of Palaven had been going on for more than two weeks now, although it had done nothing to hamper quantum entanglement communications in and out of the warzone. Indeed, he had already seen all of the displayed footage, having personally cleared that footage for public viewing several days prior.

However, while the footage of Menae burning served as a good call to action, he had called this meeting for a different reason.

Food had been stockpiled on Palaven in anticipation of a long siege, but the stockpiles could only last for so long, especially with so many soldiers on the planet. Already, the food stockpiles on Menae were running out, thanks in part to repeated alien fighter strikes destroying the storage bunkers. Nanus was starting to have trouble in that regard as well, although it still had a few weeks' worth of rations stockpiled before it became a truly pressing issue.

However, this would also present an opportunity for him and the Turian people, as if he was lucky, today might be the day that the Asari would take the first steps towards entering the war. He cleared his throat, and prepared to address his fellow councilors.

"Thank you all for coming here today. As all of you are no doubt already aware, the Siege of Palaven has shown no signs of abating, and the situation on my people's homeworld has been growing dire." The chatter of the media quickly died down as he spoke, and he made sure to cast a quick glance at the cameras that were now aimed squarely at him.

"The alien invaders have yet to make any demands of our beleaguered populace, and the lack of any sort of communication from our lost worlds paints a disturbing picture. When coupled with the aliens' deliberate targeting of food supplies avoidance of direct military confrontation, we must conclude that the aliens intend to starve the nine billion men, women and children currently residing within the system." Now, he turned to look Tevos in the eye.

"While the Asari Republics have so far declared their neutrality in this conflict, they have also claimed that they are willing to provide all necessary non-military aid to civilian populations affected by the war. To that effect, I would like to request that the Asari Republics provide food and medical aid to the beleaguered civilians stranded on Palaven."

It took Tevos a few moments to think of a response, a hesitation that the media no doubt caught and, depending on her response, would spin into a wide variety of conflicting stories.

"The Asari Republics are committed to ensuring the well-being of the citizens of the Turian Hierarchy, and under any other circumstance we would have given the required aid freely, before it was even asked for. Indeed, we have already given significant aid to the refugees in the Terminus Refuge Zone, allowing them to set up new colonies there. However, there is a difference between providing food and medicine to refugees outside of a war zone, and sending a relief fleet into a system under siege by a hostile fleet. I am sure you can understand why the Asari Republics would be hesitant in committing to such an endeavor." Barakis stifled a smile at that.

"Under any other circumstance, we would have offered the required military escort freely, before it was even asked for. Unfortunately, the majority of the Turian navy is either tied up at Palaven, or protecting the Terminus refuge zone from pirate raids. Similarly, the Salarian navy is tied up along their border in anticipation of the next alien incursion. However, the Asari navy has ships to spare, and surely you would be willing to escort your own aid transports?" Barakis' voice contained just the right amount of scorn to get its point across, and for a moment the Asari councilor looked like she had swallowed something unpleasant. She would have to be an idiot not to realize what he was aiming for now.

"Unfortunately, the Asari Republics have declared their intent to remain neutral in this conflict, and the dispatching of Asari naval forces, even as escorts to a civilian relief effort, could be seen as a provocation." Barakis held up a hand before Tevos could continue.

"But the Asari Republics have declared neutrality in this conflict, and so far, the invaders have respected that declaration. Not a single Asari world or ship has been attacked by their forces. Surely, a neutral entity such as yourself would have no trouble notifying the invaders about an incoming non-military aid mission, right?" Fighting nonsense with nonsense had never felt so sweet, he mused as Tevos' composure cracked once more.

Of course the aliens wouldn't respect Asari neutrality, and the idea of them letting a relief fleet through after they had proven perfectly willing to wipe out entire species like they had done with the Quarians was laughable, to say the least. However, the destruction of a peaceful relief fleet would force the Asari into the war, whether Tevos liked it or not. Considering how there was less than half a decade left to go until the next round of Asari governmental elections, it might even result in her replacement with a more agreeable Asari councilor.

"Of course, the aliens have respected our neutrality in this conflict so far, but there is no guarantee of them continuing to do so if we begin visibly aiding their enemy!" As Tevos finished that sentence, gasps rang out throughout the assembled reporters. After all, to them it had sounded as though the Asari councilor no longer considered the Turians allies. Barakis worked hard to remain impassive as he made his response.

"But you have already visibly aided my people significantly. After all, you have allowed our refugees and defensive fleet to pass through your space in order to reach the Terminus refuge zone, and you have provided many valuable resources in order to help with the creation of the refugee colonies there. If Palaven were to fall, those refugees would be the invaders' next targets, and even if they were to respect your neutrality, you would have to open your borders to them in order to allow them to continue their campaign against my people. Would the Asari Republics knowingly assist in genocide of an allied race in the name of maintaining neutrality?" Tevos took a step back at that, but before she could respond, Barakis seized the initiative.

"There come times in history when a choice must be made, Tevos. A time when a nation must choose between doing what is easy and what is right." The chamber was silent now, its occupants waiting to hear and record his next words.

"More than two thousand years ago, your people made such a choice when the Salarians opened an unknown mass relay, inadvertently unleashing the Rachni menace on the galaxy. Back then, your military came to the aid of their allies, and for centuries the Asari helped hold the line against the Rachni. When the Krogan rebelled and began their bloodthirsty conquest of the galaxy, my people made the choice to aid your own. Back then, we had barely had time to recover from the Unification Wars, when our race had been torn apart by civil strife and brother slaughtered brother. Still, even though we had already suffered through decades of war by the time we made contact with you, we made the choice to aid you in your time of need. Turian fleets, still bearing the scars and grudges of civil war, fought as one alongside the rest of the Council, and through our combined might we ended the Krogan Rebellions!" He paused for breath at that.

"Now, the Council faces a new enemy, one that has already exterminated the Quarian race and may have done the same to the Volus. The Asari are the only Council race to not commit to the defense of the Citadel Council and the ideals it stands for, ideals that the Asari themselves established as self-evident. It is not just the Turian Hierarchy, or the Salarian Union that are at stake here, Tevos. The very idea of a peaceful, democratic galactic union is under threat, and if we do not all stand to defend it, the Citadel Council will vanish into the annals of history and become a footnote in an alien empire's tale of glorious conquest. The time to choose has com. Will the Asari take a stand for the very ideals they introduced to the galaxy? Or will you be the weak link that kills the Citadel Council? The choice is yours, Tevos."

The cameras turned as one to face Tevos, an entire galaxy watching, waiting for her response. She remained quiet for a long moment, undoubtedly trying and failing to come up with a response that would both take the pressure off of her and allow her to accomplish her goals. Finally, she nodded.

"Very well. The Asari Republics will assemble an aid fleet for the relief of Palaven and the evacuation of civilians trapped in the war zone." She said.

"Thank you, Councilor Tevos." Barakis made a small bow in her direction as applause began to radiate from the observing reporters. He would be cheered out of the room a few minutes later as he took his leave, Dalatrass Verlin accompanying him.

"That was a nice speech." She complimented as they entered the elevator.

"Let's hope it does its job." Barakis replied as they began to descend.

"Considering how split the Asari already are on the topic of the war, it would take a miracle for it not to. Their politicians are already campaigning, and this is a major issue that could make or break their careers. As wise matriarchs, I am sure they would be able to see the tides turning and make appropriate decisions... Especially once that aid fleet is destroyed by the barbarous warmongers from beyond Relay 314."

"You have a rather ruthless mind, Verlin."

"I should say the same to you." She replied, smiling. However, that smile quickly evaporated.

"Do you honestly think that the Asari joining the war would turn the tide in our favor?" She asked. Barakis thought for a moment, before shaking his head.

"No, but it would buy us time, and that is the best we can hope for right now." He replied.

Verlin had no response to that. She knew that, if Palaven were to fall, her people would be next. Any time bought now would be for her race's benefit most of all.

By the time reached the Presidium, they had both composed themselves. The protester brawl had long since been broken up, and now they were greeted by a mob of reporters. With amicable expressions on their faces they began to answer the questions posed to them.

* * *

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay, which resulted from a mix of writer's block, real life, and a bit of laziness on my part. Still, I hope that this update is worth the wait.**

 **Before I state my thoughts on the actual content of this chapter, I would like to announce that the rest of Zaeed's training arc will be posted separately, in Tales from the Front. As many of you have pointed out, Zaeed is currently severely lacking on the character development front, and keeping his story confined to the main fic would ultimately result in undesirable shifts in focus between the main story and his arc. This will allow me to expand his character and his training in greater detail without having to worry about taking the spotlight away from the main story, namely the interactions between Humanity and the Citadel Council. Now, on to the rest of the Author's Note.**

 **The Battle of Palaven has undergone MANY changes since I originally began planning it over a year ago. Originally, there would have been one big, epic space battle, followed by a ground invasion. As should be obvious by now, that is no longer the case. Planning out a battle where both sides have unrestricted access to micro-FTL jumps was a challenge, to say the least, as it meant that both fleets could disengage from unfavorable engagements at any time, while also allowing a fleet to jump to an enemy's location immediately upon detection. Fortunately, I was able to create such an engagement thanks to several technological factors, which will be explained below.**

 **First, there is the nature of both sides' FTL drives, which operate completely differently. Council FTL drives are slower, but that speed difference is negligible when the battlefield is the size of a star system. It also has a quick recharge rate, meaning that while a Council ship may only make one jump at a time, the drives recharge quickly enough that they would be able to feasibly disengage before casualties start to really mount. However, Council FTL drives are also temporarily disabled upon exiting a relay, which is admittedly an arbitrary rule I created to explain why Desolas' fleet did not just jump to engage Shanxi's garrison fleet immediately after they noticed they were severely out-ranged. However, this rule is once again irrelevant when the Turians are the defenders. Finally, Council FTL drives may be downsized to the point where they can fit on something as small as a Kodiak drop shuttle, which will come into play soon enough.**

 **By comparison, Human FTL drives have a much slower charging rate. However, they also possess so-called Jump Capacitors, allowing them to make several jumps in rapid succession before needing to recharge. They are also unaffected by relay transit, allowing them to jump immediately upon entering a system. They cannot, however, be downsized to the point of fitting on a fighter-sized spaceframe, meaning that their fighter strikes have to travel at STL speeds to their targets.**

 **Next are the nature of both side's sensors. The Mass Effect wiki states that starship sensors are limited by the lightspeed barrier, meaning that if an event occurs four light hours away from a ship, it will be four hours before that ship sees the event occurring. Thus, the Human ships are able to 'hide behind the light-speed barrier' by keeping their ships so far away from the system that any data the Turian sensors pick up would be hopelessly out of date. Humans, meanwhile, do possess FTL sensors, but these rely on detecting hyperwave signatures created by alien ships. Since the Turians do not have hyperwave tech, they are therefore invisible to these sensors, making the Human sensors effectively limited by the light-speed barrier as well.**

 **However, this acts as a lead-in to the subject of carrier warfare. In ME canon, the Humans introduced the concept of dedicated carriers to the Council. Before then, the main fighter carriers in the Council navy were Dreadnoughts, which possessed small hangar decks. However, fighters as a whole would have been neglected, as per the reasons mentioned by Keras in the story itself. The Humans here, however, have immense amounts of experience with space and sea-based carrier warfare, and their fighters thus outclass their Turian opposition by several orders of magnitude. If I were to make a historical analogy, I would say that comparing an XCOM fighter to a Turian one would be like pitting an F-22 Raptor against an Interwar-era all-metal biplane. Turian anti-fighter defenses are similarly inadequate. However, while Human fighters can easily outrun any fleet-based pursuit, their lack of an FTL drive means that the Turian fleet can avoid any fighter-based attack against it as shown in the story, which means that the only way the Humans can eliminate that fleet is by engaging it directly in a gunfight. The result is a stalemate at Palaven, where the Turian fleet is mostly unscathed but the installations in Palaven's orbit are being pounded to dust, while the Human fleet is waiting for an opportune moment to strike.**

 **With that said, I hope you all have enjoyed this latest update of The Human War.**


	13. Chapter 11: Hutch's Gambit

**A/N: Apologies for the delay. Blame a combination of exams, writer's block and Battletech.**

* * *

 _"Today my life is forfeit. I enter now into a pact with death to trade my life for the victory of my cause. I will ensure to the best of my ability that my sacrifice is not in vain. I am a hero and a martyr. This I do swear."_ \- Turian oath, traditionally taken before suicidal missions.

 **Chapter 11: Hutch's Gambit**

Drescher looked around the augmented reality of the meeting room as the other officials either entered physically or had their own holographic avatars flicker into view. A few of them gave her looks that ranged from quizzical to disappointed, which was to be expected. After all, the stalemate at Palaven had been going on for nearly a month now with no decisive engagements aside from her initial destruction of Turian facilities on the planet's moons.

The Turians had been stubbornly keeping their ships close together in one group, their admiral seeing through her every attempt to bait them into splitting their fleet while jumping away from any fighter-based attack. Drescher had in turn refused to respond to her enemy's provocations, not once jumping into battle when the enemy paraded their full fleet through the system in an attempt to draw her out.

All this maneuver, however, had borne little fruit for either side, and everyone in the meeting room knew it.

After what felt like an eternity, the High Commander called the meeting to order.

"Grand Admiral Perry has signaled that he will be late to attend this meeting due to recent events on the Perseus Front. Thus, I call this meeting regarding the future of Operation Sally Port to order." As he spoke, the attention of the room focused on Drescher.

"First and foremost, I would like to request a status report on the Palaven situation from Grand Admiral Drescher." Aaron finished, and Drescher responded immediately.

"At the moment the battle remains a stalemate. We have not been able to successfully isolate portions of the Turian fleet for destruction, and carrier strikes on their orbital and moon-based installations are yielding diminishing returns. Anti-surface munitions are starting to run low, and what bunkers may remain on those moons are dug in too deep for us to take them out with anything short of a fusion bunker buster, of which we do not have many. Anti-ship munitions, along with gas reserves, remain high, ensuring that we will not run out in the event of a fleet engagement." She finished.

"And how long do you believe it will take before the stalemate is broken?" Aaron asked.

"I do not know. Theoretically, the Turians can keep this up until they run out of food, and that planet has an immense amount of agricultural centers still active, meaning that it could take years for famine to set in, and we were not provided with herbicide bombs at the start of this campaign, preventing us from striking at those directly. With much of our anti-surface munitions already spent, our only real option for destroying these centers is orbital bombardment, which would render our forces vulnerable to massed enemy attack." She finished.

"So what you are saying is that it could take months, if not years, before the planet itself can even be invaded?" Laura Takamura asked.

"Yes, and considering how fortified that planet is, it would take a similar amount of time to take the world itself." Drescher replied.

"The Perseus Line does not have months, Drescher. If the stalemate cannot be broken by the end of the week, we might have to pull out of the system and commence Sally Port without it." Grand Admiral MeiLi added.

"On that note, unless there is some sort of strategic importance to taking Palaven, I do not believe its capture is necessary for the operation to be successful. We have taken more than enough territory to accomplish the operation's objective." Grand Admiral Martin Hernandez of the First Grand Fleet spoke up.

"Do you believe that taking Palaven is vital to the success of Operation Sally Port, Drescher?" Aaron asked. Drescher considered her words carefully before nodding.

"Indirectly, yes. As it stands, the Turians have every reason to hate us, and they are already learning how to counter our technological advantage. If we don't crush them now, they will have time to adapt further and become a much greater threat than they are at the moment, and could potentially hamstring Operation Sally Port's success." Drescher replied.

"That is true, a Turian armada with upgraded weapons and technology could be a real threat a few years from now. However, as I said before, the Perseus Front needs to be relieved now." Bai stated.

For a few moments the room was silent, before Simon Hutch raised his hand. The commander of the ASP had done well for himself since the outbreak of hostilities with the Council, going from the head of a unit that was verging on redundancy to being the man in charge of human-alien relations. That meant he was in charge of keeping the Quarians loyal and the Turians under control.

"Perhaps a diplomatic solution is in order." That comment earned him no small amount of puzzled stares.

"Diplomacy? Now? Have you lost your mind? We've taken hundreds of their worlds, killed hundreds of millions, if not billions, of their people, fired the first shots of the war, and that's not even getting into your reeducation camps! No, the only solution to this situation is to take Palaven and subdue the Turians permanently." Drescher was the first to reply.

"Under any other circumstance I would agree with you, but we do not have the time to take that damn planet. We-" Hutch was interrupted by a new hologram flickering into view.

"Apologies for my tardiness, sir. I had to make sure the system was clear." Grand Admiral Warren Perry said as he joined the meeting. Judging by his hologram, he was still in his combat pressure suit, although the right half of its faceplate was obscured by emergency patches and his right arm was locked in a pressure sealed cast.

"Thank you for coming, Grand Admiral Perry. What is the situation on the Perseus Front?" Aaron asked.

"Not good. We've been bled white over the past few months, and two thirds of my ships are in urgent need of repairs. We've stopped their last big push, but one more like it and we'll have to pull out." Perry replied, and Drescher stifled a grimace.

"I rest my case, Drescher." Hutch added a moment later, causing her to turn to him.

"Then what do you propose I do? I'm no diplomat, but I know very well that if we were to go from besieging their homeworld to suing for peace, we appear weak and that sort of thing won't bring about the lasting ceasefire we need." She demanded.

"Then it's a good thing we don't have to bring the Turians to the table directly." Hutch replied, smiling.

"Explain." Aaron ordered.

"The Turians will fight us to the death, but the rest of the Council races lack their backbone. Thanks to the spy network we've inherited from the Quarians, we know that right now, the Asari race is firmly against the war, to the point of actively hampering the war efforts of the Turians and Salarians. However, recent reports have shown that the Asari have been convinced to dispatch an unarmed relief fleet to Palaven in order to deliver food and medical supplies to the Turians. The Turians are almost certainly counting on us destroying that relief fleet, turning them into martyrs and forcing the Asari into the war." Hutch explained.

"So you want me to do the opposite and let a fleet carrying vital supplies reach Palaven and prolong the siege?" Drescher asked.

"Not quite. If we were to simply let them pass, they might think that we did notice them, especially considering how you are currently positioned at the distant edge of the system. My suggestion is for you to intercept them and contact them directly. Ensure that they know you are aware of them and listening to them, and then let them convince you to let them through. At the end, hint that you are open to negotiations so long as the Turians are willing to put aside their pride and come to the table. Mention the Quarians if you must, although keep the pilgrim network's existence hidden if possible. I would rather not have to explain to the Admiralty why their pilgrims are being arrested as suspected spies." Hutch replied.

"Ah, I see." Drescher mused, considering his words as Aaron nodded. Such a plan was far from ideal, as it still resulted in an independent alien power that had an immense grudge against humanity, but in this case it would at least be reined in by their allies. Moreover, if all went according to plan, it could drive a permanent wedge between the Council's member races, making them easier to deal with once hostilities resumed.

"That is acceptable, although in the event of it failing to produce results, I want you to be ready to pull out of Palaven and establish a blockade on the other side of its relay." The High Commander ordered, and any objections Drescher may have had died.

"Understood, sir. I will do so." Drescher replied.

"Good. Hutch, do your Quarian spies know when this relief fleet will be arriving? I would rather not place my ships in unnecessary danger or tip the Council off before their ships enter the system." She asked, turning to Hutch.

"Negative, although judging by starmaps it will be forced to pass by the Citadel. Orders have been relayed to pilgrims on the Citadel to keep their eyes and ears open, but so far I have no concrete information regarding exactly when they will arrive." Hutch replied.

"Understood. Keep me appraised as to the situation with the relief fleet." Drescher replied.

"I hope this works, Drescher. We've staked a lot on this plan of yours, and if we don't start seeing results within a month, we are going to lose a lot of planets. Don't fuck this up." Perry spoke up a moment later.

"You are dismissed, Grand Admiral Drescher." Aaron said a moment later, and she cut the link.

* * *

Saren entered the _Oreha_ 's communications room, Captain Astekis right behind him.

"Did your SpecTRe contacts give you any idea of what our orders are?" Astekis asked as the door shut behind them.

"No, but it has to be important if they are calling for the _Oreha_ specifically." Saren replied as he switched on the terminal before settling down to wait. Two minutes later, exactly on time, the hologram of Primarch Sterakos shimmered into view. Saren immediately stood and saluted, Astekis following suit beside him.

"At ease SpecTRe, Captain." The primarch stated.

"You had orders for us, your excellency?" Saren asked.

"Yes..." The primarch paused for a few moments before he sighed and continued.

"The mission your ship is about to undertake is critical to the survival of the Turian Hierarchy. That is, your task is to transport General Kariten into the Terminus Refuge Zone." Saren could hardly believe his ears. The overall commander of the entire Turian Army was leaving Palaven?

"What I say now does not leave this room, understood?" Sterakos continued.

"Understood." Saren and Astekis chorused.

"Good. As things stand right now, we believe that the invaders are attempting to starve us out in lieu of them being able to overwhelm our navy. Considering how they seem to be in no hurry to engage our fleets, we believe that they are willing to devote months, if not years, to a planetary siege that Palaven will not be able to survive. With that in mind, I have confirmed General Kariten as my successor, and am sending him out to take charge of the Terminus Refuge Zone and assume the mantle of Primarch after Palaven falls. You will remain in the Terminus Refuge Zone afterward, where your ship will serve as the basis for the armada that will eventually reclaim our lost territory."

"Is Palaven really doomed?" Saren asked once the primarch had finished.

"Barring a miracle, yes. Either the invaders bring in reinforcements and achieve orbital superiority for a land invasion, or they starve us out over the course of a few years until our fleets are dead hulls full of emaciated corpses and our garrison has been cut in half by famine. That is why the Terminus Refuge Zone must be protected at all costs. Understood?" Sterakos asked.

"Understood. We will carry our mission or die in the attempt." Saren replied.

"Good. You will leave in two days, at approximately 8:30 Citadel Standard time. That will allow your jump to the mass relay come on the heels of an Asari relief fleet. Our own ships will jump in ahead of you to both cover the Asari transports and distract the invaders while you jump to the Citadel. That will ensure that you don't have to worry about being ambushed by one of their stealth ships at the relay."

"Understood. We will begin preparations immediately." Astekis answered.

"Good. You are dismissed." The primarch's hologram faded away a moment later.

The room was silent for a few long moments before Astekis spoke up.

"So they're abandoning Palaven?" He demanded of nobody in particular.

"No, from what I've heard they're still planning to fight to the death for it, and with the Asari about to enter the war, they're not going to go down easily." Saren replied.

"The Asari are joining the war? I thought that was an unarmed transport fleet. Not much in the way of fighting power there." Astekis pointed out.

"That's not a relief fleet, it's a mass martyrdom in disguise. The invaders are going to detect them, jump in, and slaughter them before our fleet will be able to respond. The Asari will then have no choice but to join the war in earnest." Saren replied.

"What... We're sending them to die?" Astekis exclaimed.

"No. We're going to do our best to save as many as we can, but as it stands there is little we can do. We can't picket the relay ahead of time, as the invaders will detect us and tear our picket fleet apart, so we have to wait until the Asari enter the system. However, the invaders will in all likelihood know that before we do, which means they will be able to attack the Asari while their FTL drives are still inoperable thanks to the relays. Knowing that, it's going to be a slaughter." Saren replied.

For a few moments Astekis looked like he was going to respond, only to sigh and stand.

"At least some good will come of it." He said as he left the room. Saren couldn't help but agree.

* * *

"Admiral, the _Loki-12_ is reporting a successful jump for its task force." Drescher smiled at Kurt's report.

According to Hutch's latest intelligence, the Asari relief fleet had stopped at the Citadel three hours ago, in order to take on several media representatives from the various Council species, as well as some additional supplies. They would be departing for Palaven in eight hours, and Drescher intended to be ready to greet them. More importantly, she intended to be ready to greet the Turians who would jump to their aid. After all, in eight hours the first major battle since the destruction of Palaven's orbital installations would take place, and she intended for it to be on her terms, not theirs.

Every single fighter and bomber she had was loaded for anti-ship combat, and in six hours her carrier group would be jumping to launch their compliments along the Palaven-Relay axis. That would give her at least three hours of undetected leeway before Palaven-based sensors would detect her forces. Depending on when the Asari actually arrived, the Turian fleet might not even be able to detect the fighter launches until they jumped to the relay, allowing them to finally reap the same devastating toll they had at Shanxi.

At the same time, she intended to use her fleet's FTL advantage to its full effect, using it to scatter the aliens' numerically superior forces while taking advantage of her ships' greater main gun range. As soon as the Asari fleet entered the system, they would be greeted by a small interception force of decloaking destroyers that would establish contact and allow her to engage in mercifully brief dialogue with the aliens. She hoped she would be able to get her point across in the conversation, but in the event of her being unable to do so, she had given out strict orders to avoid firing on any ships that come through the relay, which her fleet's AI network had dutifully obeyed.

Once the Turians jumped in, her interception fleet would scatter, and the rest of her forces would jump in, with small battle groups being positioned at various points on a sphere roughly two light seconds in diameter, allowing them to strike at the initial Turian force without fear of return fire. Her fleet had already been dispersed in a rough sphere throughout the system, ensuring that their guns would all be pointed at the enemy when they jumped in. This would force the Turians to similarly scatter their reinforcements, but unlike Human ships, their FTL drives lacked the ability to chain jumps one after another. This meant that once their fleet was suitably scattered, Drescher's forces would jump again, bringing the entirety of their force to bear against small fragments of the Turian fleet. Depending on proximity, some Turian ships would attempt to close at sublight speed, while others would wait for FTL drives to recharge before jumping in. In either case, Drescher would be afforded a short period of time to strike with impunity, and if she was feeling particularly reckless, she could order her ships to jump again, but that would put her in a corner in the event of the enemy overwhelming her.

"Good. Remind them that they are not to fire on the Asari ships. I don't want a single fleck of paint on those transports burned away, and if any of my ships ruin this encounter, I will have their heads." Drescher finally replied. It was bad enough that the situation had degenerated to gunboat diplomacy, but a trigger-happy captain could make even those plans fall apart.

The hours ticked by slowly, Drescher using the passing of time as an opportunity to catch a bit of sleep. She was only woken up when alarms began to blare, signalling imminent atmospheric evacuation. She immediately checked her suit, making sure that its seals were secure, before standing up from her chair.

Soon, the air began to once again hiss out of the ship, being deposited in its centralized storage tanks. Twenty minutes later, the carrier task force jumped.

Not even a second after the jump was complete, fighters were already streaming out of the hangar bays and accelerating past the immense bulk of their carriers. Fifteen minutes later, Drescher's carriers jumped away, leaving the fighters to their own devices.

Once again it was time to wait, and the minutes passed by with agonizing slowness. Drescher spent the time in her ship's communications room, ready to personally address the Asari when they arrive.

Then, after a small eternity, a signal came in from one of the destroyers picketing the relay. It was time for her to take the stage.

* * *

"This is it. As soon as we send the request, we are in Trebia." Matriarch Alyssia looked down at the helmsman as she spoke. She was a maiden, barely into her second century and still gripped by what the matriarch remembered as a youthful lust for adventure. That said, with their lives on the line, Alyssia would bet that she was having second thoughts about volunteering her ship for this task.

"Goddess willing, we will be able to sneak past the enemy fleet and accomplish our mission. Siara, is the rest of the fleet ready?" She replied, addressing her second question to the transport's communications officer.

"All ships are in position. Waiting for your orders, matriarch." At that, Alyssia smiled, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Goddess Athame, keeper of knowledge, protector of the kind and just, and guide to the faithful, today we risk our lives to save countless others. I ask for you to extend your protection to your humble servants, so that we may complete our mission and continue our service in your name. All ships of the Palaven Relief Fleet are authorized to jump immediately." She prayed, her voice building to a crescendo until she gave the order.

The ship shuddered slightly as the relay catapulted it across the vastness of space, embarking on the final, most perilous leg of its journey.

"Helm, how long do we have before our drive is ready?" She asked once the light faded from outside.

"Twenty minutes, give or take a few." The helmsman replied, and Alyssia groaned internally. Damn drives on these freighters were probably as old as she was, and took twice as long to prepare to jump after a relay transition than the cutting-edge drives used by military ships.

"As soon as the drive is done, jump. Until then, be ready to take whatever evasive maneuvers you can. Illana, are all our ships through?" She asked, turning to her sensors officer.

"Yes, all fifty ships are through... Wait..." Illana trailed off, narrowing her eyes at the holo-screen in front of her.

"What is it?" Alyssia asked.

"Three... No, five... Multiple unidentified contacts just appeared out of nowhere on my screen!"

"That can't be, the Turians said they wouldn't be... No... Impossible, did they somehow-" The helmsman exclaimed, only for Siara to cut her off.

"We're being hailed on a civilian frequency. Unknown sender." The communications officer reported, trying and failing to keep her voice calm.

"Put it through to my station." Alyssia replied, and a moment later interface in front of her shimmered, being replaced by an image of a biped clad in full body armor, adorned with alien insignia. The sight was enough to cause her to freeze, her centuries of experience suddenly feeling very paltry in the face of the unknown.

"Attention unidentified Asari Republican Ships: You are entering an active war zone. For your safety, you are ordered to turn around and immediately depart the system." Any response Alyssia had died on her lips. She wasn't sure what exactly she had been expecting, but it was certainly not an order to turn around and depart peacefully. Perhaps a notification of her impending demise, or a bombastic speech from some alien warlord before annihilation, but not this.

It took her several seconds before she was able to formulate a response.

"I am Matriarch Alyssia, commander of the Palaven Relief Fleet. We are unarmed and unescorted. Our only goal is to deliver vital supplies to prevent starvation on Palaven and evacuate civilians from Palaven's surface. The Asari Republics are a neutral third party in this conflict, and do not desire armed conflict with your people. However, we must refuse your request to leave the system, as we must carry out our mission to deliver and evacuate." She finally said.

"No. While we are not opposed to the evacuation of noncombatants from Palaven, we cannot permit you to deliver any form of material aid to our enemies until this conflict is concluded." The alien answered, its expression unreadable behind its tinted faceplate.

"But your blockade of Palaven is causing mass famine throughout the system! Thousands of Turian men, women and even children may be dead soon if we do not deliver our supplies!" That was an exaggeration. Palaven had enough stockpiles to last for nearly a year before starvation would start to become a problem, but hopefully the aliens did not know that.

"If you wish to aid the Turian people, you will convince them to meet with us at the negotiating table and force a quick end to this conflict. Until such an event takes place, we will continue to apply pressure on Palaven and the Turian government, and we will continue to treat the residents of captured Turian worlds as prisoners of war. Your food supplies will only prolong their suffering, assuming that it is indeed food you are carrying, and not hidden weaponry."

"No, we are not carrying any weaponry. However, this shipment must reach Palaven. We will even carry your message if you so wish, but we must carry out our mission!" Alyssia exclaimed.

The alien was silent for a few long moments, before it nodded its head.

"Very well. You will deliver your supplies and our message to Palaven. However, any further supply convoys will not be permitted to reach Palaven, even if we must resort to lethal force. You have been warned." Before Alyssia could respond, the transmission was cut.

"By the Goddess... We're alive..." Siara whispered.

"That we are... Helm, set a course for Palaven, jump as soon as the drive is ready." Alyssia ordered, before settling down to wait. A few minutes passed in silence before disaster struck.

"Incoming transmission, it's the Turians!" Siara suddenly exclaimed.

"Matriarch, this is General Keras. The Turian Navy will cover your escape."

"Hundreds of contacts just jumped in all around us! It's the Turian fleet!" Illena reported.

"What? No! We're-" Alyssia's protest fell on deaf ears, as the Turian had already closed the channel.

"More alien contacts just jumped in! I'm picking up gunfire from every direction! By the Goddess..." Illena's voice rose in panic as the first distant streaks of white light made their presence known outside the bridge windows.

"No..." Alyssia murmured as she caught a glimpse of the sensor display. It had been almost clear when they had jumped into the system, but now it was cluttered with thousands of signatures, bearing either a Turian insignia or an unknown marker. As she looked on, she began to see Turian signatures begin to disappear, replaced by symbols indicating destroyed starships. Hundreds of Turians had to be dying every second, and it was all for nothing. Not a single alien shot came close to her own ships, and when the time came to jump, her entire fleet was still in one piece.

The ship shuddered, and the scene of battle was replaced with a view of Palaven, although the computer continued to warn her of nearby shipwrecks. After a few moments of confusion, Alyssia realized that it was because the orbit of Palaven was filled with new debris where there had once been stations.

"Everything is gone..." Illena muttered as she stared at her screen.

"Siara, announce our arrival to Palaven orbital control. Send word to the rest of the fleet that we are landing." Alyssia sighed, mopping off the sweat that had appeared on her brow. She tried not to think of the thousands of Turians that were still dying at the relay for nothing.

"This has to stop." She muttered to nobody in particular. One way or another, she would do everything in her power to stop this war before it could claim any more lives.

* * *

As soon as the first Turian battle group jumped in on top of the decloaked destroyers, the entire Human fleet sprang into action. Thousands of warships jumped to preset coordinates, already oriented to face the enemy. Seconds later, the first fusion lances struck their targets, and by the time the first Turian reinforcements began to arrive, three quarters of their original escort force had been destroyed.

Drescher watched the system map intently as fleet after fleet jumped in on top of her ships, trusting in their shields to hold out for a few more critical seconds in order to allow more and more Turians to pour into the battlefield. They could not hold indefinitely, however, and three minutes later Drescher ordered her ships to make their second jump.

As one, her fleet of capital ships jumped away, abandoning their sphere around a now-dead fleet to reform into a single fighting force. It took a few seconds for the Turians to realize what was going on, and by the time they had Drescher's ships were already acquiring targeting solutions and opening fire once more. Drescher smiled as the first volley hit home, a second hot on its heels. With their FTL drives stuck recharging and her forces far out of their guns' effective range, now was her chance to inflict maximum casualties. Before her eyes, thousands of fusion lances tore into the Turian fleet, their targets unable to do anything aside from maneuver desperately. A glance at her system map told her that her fighters were a mere six minutes away from optimal weapon range.

"New contacts detected! They're jumping in behind our main force!" Drescher's smile faded at that. Evidently, the Turians had kept a force in reserve. Fortunately, the majority of their fleet was still too far away to support them.

"I want the second and fourth task forces to turn around and engage the Turian reserves. The rest of the capital fleet is to continue engaging with the enemy main force." She ordered.

"Detecting fighter launches from the new enemy force." The sensors officer reported.

Had she been fighting Ethereals, Drescher would have been concerned. After all, her main fleet had no fighter cover, meaning that even a small force of Ethereal strike craft could wreak havoc on her ships. However, she was fighting Turians, and experience had shown that their fighter capabilities were negligible.

* * *

General Keras had a predatory smile on his face as he gave the order to engage. At his command, two thousand of the best Turian warships activated their FTL drives and jumped into the space behind the enemy fleet. Already, the _Vengeance'_ s gunners were scrambling to get a sensor lock on an enemy vessel, but his force's true striking power lay somewhere else entirely.

"Give the special unit the all clear to launch. Tell them to make their lives count." He ordered. A few seconds later, magnetic clamps on the underside of his ship released their payload.

The plan had originally been to convert the effectively useless Type-219 Vespe fighter into an automated relativistic kill vehicle designed to target hostile warships, finally giving the Turians an answer to their devastating primary armaments. However, while an initial batch of thirty fighters had been converted, the VI systems designed to control them were not ready in time. Thus, with the invaders on their doorstep, the weapon's developers had gotten desperate enough to propose an alternative method of control.

Ever since the ancient nations of Palaven had first employed the airplane in warfare, it had not been uncommon for desperate pilots to ram their craft into their targets, be they buildings, warships, or even other airplanes. In a few documented cases, specialized suicide units had even been formed exclusively for the task.

Now, for the first time in millennia, such a unit was formed once more on Palaven, comprised of three hundred volunteers. Thirty flew the suicide bombers, hastily modified to once more accept a live pilot, while the rest flew standard fighters and acted as decoys to draw the fire of the devastatingly effective alien point defense systems. None of them expected to make it back. The bomber pilots would be killed by the lack of inertial dampeners on their craft, crushed into fine paste by the sheer force of their craft's acceleration, while the decoy pilots' only purpose was to draw fire, and the alien guns almost never missed.

That unit had just been deployed at just outside the range of their target's point defense guns.

"All ships, launch torpedoes! Give them as many targets to take out as possible!" Keras ordered as his ship's main gun spoke, spitting what had once been the most powerful shot in the galaxy at its target. Thousands of torpedoes soon joined it, as every ship under his command emptied their launchers. The fighters of the Special Unit followed in their wake, followed in turn by the rest of the fleet as they rushed to close the distance with the enemy.

A few moments later, the first loss reports began to sound out as the aliens opened fire. Keras' fist tightened around the railing as thirty assorted cruisers went down in an instant. Then, the floor spun beneath him and alarms began to blare, while the temperature on the bridge suddenly rose several degrees.

"Damage report!" He called out as he steadied himself.

"Shields are down! They've clipped our starboard wingtip... Antimatter tanks are still in place. Damage minor."

"Is our FTL drive still operational?" Keras asked.

"Yes sir, it is intact." Keras breathed a sigh of relief at that. Given time, his ship could escape and limp home, but he was certain that the next shot would not miss its mark and would thus decapitate his fleet's command structure. Then, an idea came to him.

"Helm, keep us spinning. I want all escape pods launched. Make it look like we're abandoning ship." Keras ordered.

"Understood!"

The dreadnought continued to spin, firing off escape pods as it did so. When no second shot came, Keras smiled. That smile was short lived, as suddenly a cloud of signatures entered the battlefield map from the direction of the relay. Zooming out, Keras cursed. An immense swarm of alien bombers was inbound at full speed, poised to fall on the back of his diversion fleet in a matter of minutes.

"What's the status on the first fleet's FTL drives?" He demanded.

"Still charging. I'm estimating another eight minutes." A quick look at the map told him that the bombers would be in range before then.

"Tell them they have incoming bombers." Keras ordered, cursing his inability to do anything else. Instead, he continued to watch his main fleet close with the alien force, counting down the seconds until the special unit was in range. Alien point defense fire had already wiped out more than half of the torpedo screen, and was even now starting to tear into the escorting fighters, but the suicide craft were still unscathed.

His capital ships were also suffering, as they were now within the ideal range of the alien ships. His only other dreadnought, the _Trebian Glory_ had gone down in a single shot from an alien equivalent, and over a hundred cruisers and frigates had already joined it. There was no escaping or outwitting the alien gunners. If a ship was chosen then, barring a fluke like what happened with the _Vengeance,_ it was dead. One by one, his fleet's numbers were whittled down, being cut in half by the time the cruisers entered gun range.

"The Asari are away. Their relief fleet just jumped." The sensors officer reported. That was something, at least. Keras nodded in response, too busy staring at the battle map to give a proper response. Thus, he was able to see the first Special Unit suicide bomber vanish from his screen, and for a moment he thought it had been shot down.

Then, he just barely held back a cheer as an alien dreadnought went down. His sensors officer didn't have the same restraint.

"Scratch one alien dreadnought!" Even as those words were uttered two other alien ships, classified as pocket dreadnoughts by the tactical VI, were also claimed by suicide strikes.

The rest of the alien ships began to maneuver erratically, their point defense guns seamlessly switching targets from the few remaining torpedoes to the incoming fighters. Several of the suicide bombers went down, but the alien gunners were too late to kill them all. In a matter of moments, every suicide bomber made their lethal jump, and every single one hit home. Twenty three more alien ships, including one more dreadnought, went down almost simultaneously. Twenty six fighters had been traded for twenty six ships, their pilots forever remembered as heroes.

Then, his capital ships entered secondary gun range, speeding past the alien warships in a matter of seconds before decelerating and turning around, running rings around the less agile alien vessels and doing their best to stay clear of their primary weaponry. The aliens had lost their advantage and their commander clearly knew this, as his cruisers barely had a minute to engage before the alien capital ships vanished off his screen, having jumped away.

However, that did not mean the battle was over. While their capital ships had left the field their bombers still remained, and they had just entered missile range. As Keras looked on, thousands of missile signatures appeared on the star map. GARDIAN lasers stabbed fruitlessly at the incoming warheads, but against so many targets moving at such high speeds, there was not much they could accomplish.

"Cruiser _Sergassas_ lost."

"Frigate _Stares_ lost."

"Cruiser _Dekerian_ lost."

Once more the tactical VI began listing the names of lost ships as the alien warheads hit home, the list growing further as the enemy closed and began raking his frigates with gunfire.

"General, the _Oreha_ has reached the relay and jumped away." His sensors officer reported.

"Good. Order all ships to jump away as soon as their drives are ready. We have no more reason to be here." Keras ordered.

"Frigate _Rethanus_ lost."

"Frigate _Ledena_ lost."

"Frigate _Kerates_ lost."

The seconds ticked down with agonizing slowness, until finally his ships began to jump away, and the tactical VI was silenced.

* * *

Drescher sighed in relief as her ships jumped away to safety. In the span of seconds, two of her battleships, the _Ruhr_ and _Ontario,_ had been destroyed by relativistic ramming attacks. How they had managed to fit FTL drives into such tiny spaceframes she had no idea, but it had cost her two battleships and twenty four heavy cruisers.

In hindsight it had been idiotic to just assume the alien fighters were negligible threats. However, she refused to be caught like that again. Of course, her options were limited thanks to her fighters not possessing FTL capabilities. That meant either her carriers followed her fleet and participated in the battle directly, exposing themselves to the enemy in the process, or she sent out fighters ahead of time and had her fleet jump to them as needed. In either case, her fleet's mobility was now hamstrung.

"Our bombers are entering combat range. They're firing missiles now." Kurt notified her.

"That's something, at least." Drescher sighed, watching as her bombers released their ordinance. It slammed home a few seconds later, and the flimsy Turian warships began to crumble as expected. She took a certain vindictive pleasure in watching the damage done to her fleet by the enemy drones be repaid tenfold, both in tonnage and in crew, but it did little to change the long-term implications.

After all, the Turians only had deployed a single, likely experimental, unit and it proved extremely effective. Thus, any continuation of the war would see them deployed in the thousands, and if Humanity did not have a countermeasure ready by the time hostilities resumed then the Turians could become a significant threat, especially once they refined the acceleration technology to make their drones travel faster than her own interceptors.

When the Turians finally disengaged, almost certainly jumping back to their homeworld to lick their wounds, Drescher finally turned away from the system map.

"I want all bombers that still have munitions onboard to continue on to Palaven. Have them prioritize destruction of Turian fighter hangars and capital ships undergoing repairs. Any bombers that are out of ammunition are to return to the preset recovery point. Next, I want damage reports from every ship. Depending on how much damage they've sustained, we may need to send some of them out of the system for repairs." Drescher finished.

"Yes ma'am!" The bridge crew chorused, and Drescher smiled under her helmet before leaving the room. No matter the losses, her crew would still do what was asked of it.

Then she frowned as she entered her private communications room and set up a priority transmission to Earth.

Two minutes of waiting later, Simon Hutch's hologram flickered into being. Drescher promptly held back her laughter, as the XCOM propaganda and alien relations director looked half asleep, and was wearing little more than a hastily thrown-on shirt and a pair of long johns.

"I've sent the Council the message you requested, Hutch. I am sending you the full comm record now." Drescher said.

"Good, good. I-" Drescher held up a hand and continued.

"I wasn't finished. Today, I lost twenty six of my heaviest warships because the Turians figured out how to turn their fighters into relativistic torpedoes. Right now, my intuition tells me that this was an experimental deployment, but your plan will give them time to mass produce them. In a few years time, they will be able to deploy them in the thousands, alongside stronger warships and with experienced commanders in charge. That new military will be aimed straight at us, and I am willing to bet that they aren't going to stop at reclaiming lost territory. So I hope you know what the hell you're doing, because if you screw this up we will soon have to deal with another threat that is damn near equal to us in capability." She finished.

"I understand that very well, Drescher, but the Ethereals need to be stopped now. That said, I am aware of the threat the Turians can pose in the near future, and my analysts are already working on ways we can keep the Council in check without breaking any potential ceasefire. However, until the treaty is in place and we have a better insight of how the Council works, there is little I can do. I will keep you updated as time goes on, as I may need your ships to get work done." Hutch replied.

"See that you do." Drescher answered. When there was no reply, she cut the link.

* * *

"Verlin, we have a problem." Barakis announced as he entered the meeting room. The Salarian councilor looked up as he entered, her face blank.

"Does it concern the Asari recording?" She asked, likely already knowing the answer.

"Yes. It is clear from the circumstances surrounding it that the Invaders have spies on the Citadel, and I need your help to root them out." Barakis replied.

"And the offer within it?" Verlin asked.

"Lies, of course. They are saying exactly what they know the Asari want to hear in order to keep them out of the war." Barakis answered.

"But what if it is genuine?" Barakis paused at that, confusion plain on his face.

"Verlin, you can't honestly believe that they are telling the truth and are willing to talk! You know as well as I do that there hasn't been a single message coming out of our space ever since the Invaders made contact. That can only mean one thing, and that is genocide!"

"But what if they are? Barakis, I will personally stand beside you no matter what, but my superiors on Sur'Kesh think differently. If there is a chance at peace, even with the borders as they are, they will take it and I will be ordered to agree with it." Verlin sighed.

"The Dalatrasses can't-"

"They're desperate, Barakis. Desperate enough to believe that damn message. The Salarian Union doesn't have your numbers, or your discipline, or your fleets of capital ships! The only reason we are still in this war is because almost all the Invaders' efforts have been focused on the Hierarchy. If they were to turn their full forces on us, they would tear us apart!"

"So they are just going to turn their backs on my people?" Barakis exclaimed.

"No! But the fact of the matter is that if they think there is a legitimate chance at peace, or even an armistice for a few years, the Dalatrasses will take it and order me to vote for it. We both know where Tevos stands on this, which means that when the vote comes, I will be the deciding factor, and in that chamber I speak for the Salarian Union, not for myself."

Barakis was silent for a long moment at that.

"What happens if the vote for diplomacy goes through?" He finally asked.

"Then the Asari strong-arm you into sitting down at the negotiating table and all but hold a gun to your head to accept the terms handed to you. After Tevos ran with Alyssia's message to the media, the Asari factions supporting the war have suddenly evaporated into thin air... What's worst is they think they're helping you." Verlin muttered in disgust.

"So what, our victory at Palaven means nothing then? We forced them to retreat and destroyed two of their three dreadnoughts!"

"You lost nearly two thousand ships in that battle, while taking out just over one hundred. At this point, even you can't sustain such a casualty rate!"

"That's why we need reinforcements! If the Asari were to commit now, we could finally drive them out of Palaven and begin our counteroffensive!"

"But how much longer until they send another fleet? It would take half of the Council's combined navies to destroy the fleet that menaces Palaven. How much would be left to take on a second fleet like that? What about a third? We're losing this war, Barakis, and the Dalatrasses see that! If we had a decade or two to prepare, my people could do much to even the technological playing field but we don't have decades. We have as much time as it takes for the Invaders to bring in reinforcements to Palaven, take out what's left of your battered fleets, and proceed to a ground invasion."

"They haven't brought reinforcements yet." Barakis pointed out.

"They haven't needed reinforcements until now. That one fleet wiped out practically all opposition it faced until it reached Palaven, and you've managed to stalemate them at best. From what I've heard, they've managed to take out quite a few ships while they were undergoing repairs."

"It's only a matter of time until their munitions run out." Barakis protested.

"Listen to yourself Barakis! Are your people really basing their plans around the enemy shooting at them so much that they run out of ammunition?" Verlin shouted.

Barakis did not reply to that, and Verlin's furious expression faded.

"The vote on whether or not to ask for peace at Palaven is in two days. I will do what I can to argue for you and keep my people in the war, but when it comes down to it, I vote with the Dalatrasses." She sighed.

"And if they vote for peace?"

"Then I will do what I can to ensure my people make the most of the armistice. I suggest you do the same." Verlin replied.

* * *

Two days later, Barakis found himself standing in front of a tense audience, listening to Tevos address the entirety of Council space.

"This war has dragged on for far too long! Millions, perhaps even billions, lie dead on their worlds and in the cold void of space, and for what? What is the purpose of this senseless conflict? What has been bought with all these lives lost? How much longer before your children are sent to an early grave? These questions have weighed heavily on the galaxy, but I say enough! Enough death, enough war, enough lives lost for a pointless cause! The offer of peace has been made, and we would be fools not to take it. With that in mind, I call for a vote to end this pointless war and allow diplomacy to save the Turian Hierarchy where brute force cannot!" Tevos paused, and Barakis struggled to force down the desire to strangle the Asari woman who mocked the sacrifice of his people.

"The Asari Republics vote for peace. What of the Turian Hierarchy?" Tevos asked, logging her vote and turning to him.

"It is obvious where we stand. These invaders have bombed our colonies, slaughtered our people, and even now use a so-called peace offer to sow division within our ranks where there should be unity. The Turian Hierarchy knows that there is only one way this war can end, and thus vote to continue." He replied, logging his own vote.

"And you, Dalatrass? What say the Salarian people?" Tevos asked.

For a few long moments Verlin stood still, before finally hanging her head in defeat.

"After much deliberation, the Salarian Union votes to attempt diplomatic contact." She logged her vote.

"I'm sorry, Barakis." She whispered as she turned away from the console and walked out of the room. Tevos and Barakis followed behind her, the three councilors leaving the chamber as one.

As soon as the door slid shut, Barakis spun to face Tevos and lashed out, relishing the feeling of cartilage breaking as his fist connected with the blue woman's nose. It wouldn't change the fact that the war might be lost in a matter of days, but it was certainly satisfying.'

Verlin grabbed him a moment later, holding him back but not quite far enough to prevent him from getting a few more blows in.

"Is your peace worth leaving billions of lives unavenged?" He shouted, his next kick slamming against a biotic barrier.

"Is your war worth the destruction of the Council?" Tevos spat back, struggling to her feet.

"My war? Is that what you think this is? That this is just some Turian scuffle you can watch safely from Thessia? This was never my war, Tevos, this was OUR war! Mark my words, these invaders will not stop for a peace treaty. First they'll take Palaven, and then when my people are no longer there to defend you, they will come for Thessia next! Today, you have played right into their hands, and taken the entire Hierarchy down in the process!" He growled, before tearing his way out of Verlin's grasp and storming away. Breaking the news to the Primarch would not be pleasant.

* * *

 **A/N: I am honestly not satisfied with how this battle turned out. As many of you already know, Palaven was originally supposed to be a series of epic space battles followed by a ground invasion. However, such a protracted engagement would in no way be in humanity's best interests, and I quickly came to the conclusion that Palaven itself did not need to be taken, only the space around it. Thus, a long ground invasion lasting several chapters was scrapped, taking with it scenes such as Humans and Turians fighting over massive beachheads, Turian pilots striking at Human tanks, Saren and Tarkus taking part in a covert mission that leads to the capture of several intact Human laser cannons, and many fanmade regiments making their appearances.**

 **As for the space battle, I feel like I was somewhat limited in the points of view I could use. I wrote the battle from the PoVs of the two fleets' leaders, and as a result the battles had to be told from the perspective of an outside observer as Drescher was commanding from a carrier far from the battlefield, while Keras faked his dreadnought's abandoning and stayed relatively distant as a result.**

 **Now, I could have created several other characters who participated in the fight more directly, and originally that is exactly what I planned, with a Human captain, a Turian captain, a Human fighter pilot, and a Turian Special Unit member all making their appearances. However, I ended up cutting them as well. The Human captain was cut because aside from a few jumps there was little he did other than give targeting commands and watch his gun shoot. His Turian counterpart was cut because I felt like he was a bit too plot-armored while not contributing anything to the battle that Keras was not already doing. The Human fighter pilot was cut because his scene turned out to just be a rehash of the similar scene from the battle of Shanxi, where Human fighter pilots just run roughshod over Turian ships, inflicting heavy losses while taking none in return. Nothing we haven't already seen. Finally, the Special Unit pilot was cut due to his scene being too brief and difficult to insert in between Keras' observation of the Special Unit's deployment.**

 **Depending on how much time I have, I may go back and revisit this battle later on, but right now I just want to finally release this chapter because it has spent way too long in the oven already.**

 **Now on to better news! A writer named TonyJC has recently released the first few segments of a story called 'The Battle of Yellowstone: A Story from The Human War'. As the title implies, it is set way back in the past of the THW-verse, during the pivotal Battle of Yellowstone mentioned in the story timeline. I love his take on this background event, and thus highly recommend it to the rest of you. The extension is right here:** **s/12946749/1/The-Battle-of-Yellowstone-A-Story-from-The-Human-War**

 **With all that said, I hope you have all enjoyed the story. As always, feedback is very welcome as I am always looking to improve the quality of what I am releasing.**


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